


In Another Life

by JaquesSilver



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Background canon issues treated as the hints of a dystopia they are, Background open polyamorous relationships, Because lies and trust issues, Bigotry & Prejudice, Canon-Typical Violence, Characters making bad decisions even after they've experienced character development, Class Issues, Even the 'Good Guys', Eventual Shinji/Gin, Extended Headcanon for:, Found Family, Gen, Guilt, Hollowfied!Gin, Hollows (Bleach), Hougyoku (Bleach) - Freeform, Hueco Mundo, Hurt/Comfort, Intrigue, Manipulation, Morally Grey Characters, Multi, No Sexual Content, OCs - because there aren't enough characters during and prior to TBTP, POV Multiple, Pre-Turn Back the Pendulum Arc, Rare Pairings, Seireitei, Self-Harm, Several characters including many Hollow Characters not added until later, Slow Burn, Some politics, Souls, Souls Society, This is Gin we're talking about, Time Travel, Turn Back the Pendulum Arc, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, Zanpakutou, attempts at redemption, nobles - Freeform, the Soul King
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:20:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25100782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaquesSilver/pseuds/JaquesSilver
Summary: Fate seems determined to keep Gin from getting what he wants. However, not even death is enough to stop him keeping his promises to his precious person. People. He may have learned the consequences of ‘doing anything’ for them, but he’s never out of tricks up his sleeves - can’t afford to be, not yet. Not until he gets it back.
Relationships: Ichimaru Gin & Kyouraku Shunsui & Ukitake Juuishirou, Ichimaru Gin & Matsumoto Rangiku, Ichimaru Gin & OC, Kyouraku Shunsui & Yadoumaru Lisa, Kyouraku Shunsui/Ukitake Juushirou, Shihouin Yoruichi & Urahara Kisuke
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> More Characters will be added to the tags as the story progresses as some characters won't show up for many many chapters. Content Warnings will be added to each chapter as necessary. Let me know if I miss something.   
> I'd love to hear any and all Constructive Criticism, questions, and comments.  
> For an expanded summary and a bit of concept art check out my tumblr: jaquesofdragons

— Sometime, 20XX — Los Noches, Hueco Mundo —

A fat waxing moon hung over Hueco Mundo's perpetual night, making the ruins and dunes of Los Noches look like lost wreckage in a frozen sea. Ichimaru Gin floated among the stars high above the desert. Staring up into the dark depths, he could almost imagine it was any other night he'd spent stargazing. His eyes drifted shut, enjoying the timeless moment; the cool breeze carrying a myriad of scents from the endless horizon; hours and hours of blissful silence and peace.

Reality asserted itself, interrupting his reverie with a spike of energy from far below. He twitched, but stubbornly refocused on the emptiness, crossing his arms behind his head. 

It was a tiny, insignificant distraction he no longer had any involvement with. 

But that was only the first and each one chipped away at his calm despite his best efforts. The next spike was far larger—a full release!—even with distance and wards and stone between them, and _not the plan_. 

He twisted around in consternation, staring at the remains of Los Noches’ white dome as if he’d be able to see the fight playing out through it. Seven to one, the fighters barely had a chance against Aizen and they were throwing away their only hope. Even if they were too stupid to pretend they were sane and _run_ , they should’ve at least _followed the bloody plan_ if they wanted to survive.

Against all advice they must have let Aizen get under their skin. 

Mind racing, he licked his lips. If he just—even from here he still had options. It was a risk, but—

He snapped into action as his senses alerted him to a more immediate concern, barely jumping out of the way at the last moment. A wave of debris flew past leading a deadly blade of energy. The wind buffeted him in its wake, tossing his hair into his squinted eyes and ruffling his clothes.

"Planning to come down anytime soon, ya bastard?!" Kenpachi roared, his voice carrying faintly from far, far below. 

The distance diminished the giant of a man into a tiny speck standing on the highest remaining fragment of the dome. But it did nothing to diminish his threat—already the man had jumped back, sword held ready to send another bombardment Gin's way.

"Tch." Gin took a moment to breathe and refocus: he had nothing to do with those fools anymore and he wouldn’t be getting it back today. 

He tipped over into free fall and embraced the distraction. "Was that supposed to hit something, Ken-chan?" he called down, letting the wind carve a smile back on his face.

There was no way Ken could hear him, but Gin had never been stingy on the insults and the man could obviously fill in the blanks. With another roar, Ken let loose a barrage of swings, pelting debris and blades of pure energy straight up into the air.

Free-wheeling in his own personal meteor shower, Gin laughed with delight. He twisted and swooped between certain death, letting each obstacle pass a mere hair's breadth away. Between the meteors roaring by, the swamp of Ken's reiatsu and killing intent, and the thunder of the wind, he could _almost_ pretend he didn't notice the fight on the other side of the city.

With a meter to spare, he flipped over and crashed feet-first into Ken's chest, slipping past his guard. The momentum slammed them both straight through the dome in an explosion of stone and dust.

As three sets of black claws dug furrows in Ken's skin, Gin gave him a mocking smile, flicking at the intact blade. _"Good job—_ again?" Right before Ken collided with another roof, he leapt off in a graceful arc. 

He chose to land a meter above the sand, wary of sinkholes as they ‘renovated’ the landscape above the underground tunnels of the city. All around him, invariably white buildings stood in varying states of destruction and subsidence, some sheared clear through and revealing multiple levels, creating a perfect playground.

"It's boring when you fly up and up all by yourself, Gin-chan!" Yachiru called from atop a nearby pillar that leaned precariously as she wildly waved her lollipop.

"Yeah! We can't see through the dome, ya jerk!" Lilynette shouted from beside Yachiru, shaking her fist for emphasis. "We're setting bounds on this match, bounds, ya hea—!"

The distant boom of an explosion large enough to rock the whole city cut her off. Dust and rubble rained down from the crumbling remains of the dome and the levels above while unstable ruins shook and wobbled.

For one weighty moment, Aizen's reiatsu, full of vicious satisfaction, felt as close as Ken, Yachiru, and Lily's.

Gin wiped the grime stuck to a trail of blood off his partial mask with a huff. Distracted once more, he waved at the girls without paying their renewed ruckus any mind. Seven was down to...five? Six? No, definitely five now; he sensed the faint presence of the sixth soul rapidly fading, _dying_.

 _Weakling fools_. The bastard was barely at half-power by this point, didn’t even have access to the bloody orb. If they’d _listened_ —

A far closer menace eclipsed the distant threat in seconds and Gin whipped around and caught Ken's sword mere centimeters from his face. The fragile blade vibrated with Ken's malicious reiatsu—far too much of it, just as he expected. 

"That's not how ya use a sword, Ken-chan!" Gin said, keeping his voice cheery even as the edge bit through the hierro of his claws. He tightened his grip, flooding the steel with more energy still, until it shattered. 

The release of their combined reiatsu sent them both flying back to the cheers of their audience. In waves of sand they skidded to a halt across from one another.

"Tch. Again?" Ken flicked the broken hilt off to the side where it stuck into a dune with a graveyard of others.

Pulling at his eyepatch, he dislodged the sand gathered behind it with an irritated expression. The resulting wave of power blasted the sand around him away, before the eye patch settled back in place, sealing most of the man's reiatsu once more.

Gin twitched ever so slightly at the temporary pressure and the reminder of his own diminished power and retaliated: "Oi, oi! Are you even trying, Ken-chan?" He held his hands out to his sides with a pout. "I can hardly believe the _amazing_ Zaraki Kenpachi can't manage such a simple skill!"

Lily wolf-whistled in the background, calling, "Yeah, what do ya say to that, ya big bastard! Show him how it's done, Gin!" while Yachiru happily cheered them both on: "Keep it up, Gin-chan! Get him, Ken-chan!"

Ken picked another waiting blade out of the sand, his bones popping and cracking as he rolled his head and shoulders. "What was that, hah? Give me a real blade—one that won't snap under a bit of power, _my blade—!"_ Killing intent poured out of him in visible waves. "Hell, just hold still for a second—!"

Another distant explosion and Gin's head snapped towards Aizen's fight. "Down to four..."

A split second of warning and Gin leapt back and kept moving, the sand he'd been standing on disappearing in a curtain of power, a few silver hairs floating free.

"Ah ah ah!" Ken cried with a wild grin, spinning to follow him with a backward slash that sent yet more walls and pillars crashing. "I'm not supposed to be letting ya pay attention to that shit!"

Mid-chase, it took several moments for Gin and Ken to realize the clapping they were hearing wasn't from the girls. With only a single shared glance, they turned to attack the source in unison. Buildings exploded and collapsed in the wake of the attacks, but their victim stood unscathed, only holding his hat down to shield his eyes.

“Tch.” Reluctantly, Gin straightened, sliding his hands into his sleeves. 

"I'm always impressed by how much renovation the two of you can get done in a day," Urahara Kisuke said in that saccharine tone of his, completely ignoring the polite warning to _go elsewhere_. Tipping his hat back as he approached, he held a hand over his eyes to survey the damage with his usual over-the-top antics.

"Ken-chan and Gin-chan have only been playing for an hour!" Yachiru corrected, jumping down from her vantage point with Lily and waving her lollipop back and forth to get the intruder's attention.

Ken tsk'd at the sign the man wasn’t leaving any time soon and gave Gin an impatient look, slinging his blade over his shoulder.

Humming and scratching his cheek, Gin decided that as fun as Urahara's ideas could be, he really wasn't in the mood—there was really only one thing Urahara chased Gin down for, after all. But...he flashed Ken a smirk and told him, "That looks a little ridiculous with such a short blade—maybe get something a little more yer usual style, eh? Isn’t there something ya've been wanting to do?"

Ken gave him another ‘tch’ for the insult, dropping the short sword, but shot a predatory smile over at Urahara, picking up on Gin's hint—he was always interested in 'testing' the exiles' power and skills.

"Hou~, all this in an hour?” Urahara asked Yachiru as he obligingly emptied his pockets of candy for her greedy hands. Hat falling back down over his eyes, he turned to Gin, flaring his green fan to cover his smile. “Someone must have been in a mood~." 

Was his fuse that much shorter today or was Urahara being even more predictably irritating than normal? With a huff, Gin flicked his tail into his hand, making a show of concentrating on brushing the dirt and smears of blood off the white plume. "Ah," Gin agreed in a distracted tone. "Ken-chan was bored without Ichigo or Grimmjow around to entertain him—" he looked up with a little smirk "—were ya hoping to volunteer?"

Ken's bloodlust roared back to life at the suggestion. "Ah, yer supposed to have been a Captain or something, right? Some kinda hotshot?"

Persona fully in place, Urahara started sweating as he held his hands out in protest, raising his voice to be heard over the excited catcalls from Lily and Yachiru. "Now, now, I'm just a shopkeeper with a special deal~! I could hardly keep up with—"

A final, small explosion, all too far away, took out Aizen's last opponents. A mockery, no doubt, of their weakness.

Gin sighed, turning to wave Ken off with a limp wrist. "It's fine, Ken-chan. Ichigo-kun's arrived if ya want to play with him instead. Shoulda told ya earlier..." His shoulders slumped with weary irritation. "It's over." He knew better than to think taking a shortcut would work, had abandoned the plan the moment it went sideways, but he couldn't help the feeling of disappointment. 

"Oi. Screw that! The whole point was to distract ya from that damn mess," Ken said, his gleeful smile audibly shaped the simple words into promises of mayhem. Steel hissed and clinked as he selected a new sword. "Ya don't seem like yer gonna help, 'shopkeeper.'"

Gin huffed, grateful, but still bemused by Kenpachi’s continued friendship and support. Urahara would be a shitty fight for Ken, barely any fun at all—he’d have to make it up to him. 

Unaware of Gin’s inner musings, Urahara laughed nervously, waving his hands back and forth. "I've worked hard to develop this new offer for my fellow conspirator~! Considering the...surprising result of that little fiasco, I’d say my offer will be far more than merely...'distracting.’"

Before Gin could set Ken on the man for starting the same old conversation now of all times, Lilynette zipped in front of Urahara.

She practically vibrated with frenetic energy and her new coat flared dramatically around her. "Did I hear one of our resident evil scientists say 'conspiracy?'" she demanded with a manic grin, hands clutched around another of her ill-gotten prizes: a thick book she had yet to let anyone else see.

Caught off guard and bemused, Gin still managed to murmur, "More like 'benign scientist,'" just loud enough to reach Urahara's ears at the same time Urahara protested, " _Our_ resident?!"

Urahara narrowed his eyes at him while Gin smirked shamelessly, but Lilynette bulldozed over both their reactions. 

"Come on, come on, what's yer latest plan? Ya've gotta tell me!" Her excitement only ramped up more and she jumped up to hover right in Urahara's face. "Did ya invent a time travel spell? A device? Are ya going to send Gin back in time to stop Aizen from ever starting on his journey to megalomania?!"

Heavy silence fell over the whole group while a genuine smile tugged at Gin's lips, some of his dour mood lifting. Seemed like someone had been having fun at Lily's expense and he was happy to enjoy the fallout, only a little sad he hadn't been the source.

Urahara, leaning back under Lily's assault, slowly raised a finger. "Wouldn't I have gone myself if I had invented time travel?" His eyes trailed down to the book in her arms. "Isn't that the bribe from Saigo-sensei to leave him alone while he and Starrk-san napped? Is it about time travel?"

Looking down her nose at Urahara, Lilynette yanked the book and herself away. "I won it off him myself after he admitted defeat!" She held it out with sparkling eyes. "A record of the forgotten legends of the ancient past! Or-or maybe a prophecy of the future!"

"Oooh, I wanna see, I can see, right, Lily-tan?!" Yachiru cried, racing over.

“A ladies only club?” Urahara asked, dramatically drooping as Lily didn’t hesitate to show it off.

Lily hmphed. “A ‘People That Don’t Owe Me For Keeping Their Secrets’ Only Club,” she said with hauteur, before turning her back and shutting the rest of them out.

Fully distracted, Urahara wandered over to join Gin and Ken. For several moments they watched in collective bemusement as Yachiru 'oohed' and ‘ahed’ over the book while Lilynette preened with pride.

"Lily-chan doesn't know about fiction?" Urahara murmured behind his fan. Then turned to Gin with the beginnings of that all-consuming curiosity in his eyes. "Saigo-sensei doesn't know how to time travel—does he?"

 _Obviously not._ "I'm sure fiction's been explained to her before," Gin said with a deliberately unconcerned shrug. Urahara, perceptive as he was, still hadn’t figured out how little Saigo was _actually_ capable of, distracted by a few of his unusual tricks. And every hint only further drove the man nuts.

He smirked at Urahara's twitching brow and tapped his knuckles on Ken's shoulder behind him. "About yer offer. How about: I'll listen to ya explain yer plan after ya go a few rounds with my friend here— _proper_ rounds, mind—wouldn't want him getting bored. Ya know how much effort it takes to convince Ichigo to fight and I'm afraid I'm just not able to keep up like I used to."

Blood lust swamped them once more as Kenpachi turned his full attention back to them. “Ah, I’m not going anywhere. Ya wouldn’t want me to get bored, would ya?” 

Urahara startled and gave Gin a pained face, dropping his fan and glancing over at Kenpachi "I'm offering you your best shot at reaching your lifelong goal and this is what I get? What about _my_ payment, Ichimaru-kun?"

"This’ll pay Lily back, too, ya know. And if that’s not payment enough...I doubt your price has changed since last time, eh, Ki-chan?" Gin asked, all innocent-like, hopping into the air to look for a good place to play around. There wasn't much left here. 

"I’d say it has, since I'm adding entertainment to my list of services," Urahara said with a pout, nudging with his fan at the hilt of one of the swords sticking out of the pile Ken had been using. He looked up, completely serious, eyes intent. "The background between Saigo-sensei and Kyouraku Shunsui."

Gin froze and even Ken's blood lust faltered in surprise. After a moment Gin turned a neutral smile on Urahara. "Not interested in time travel anymore?"

Letting his fan collapse, Urahara gave Gin a smirk of his own. "If Saigo-sensei can do that, on top of all his other skills, unlikely as it is, I need all the leverage I can get, no?" He held out his hands, voice becoming jovial once more. "Just as insurance~. Seal it, hand it to a third-party to be delivered in case of...accidents. You know how it is~."

Tilting his head, Gin considered Urahara and his level of confidence; asking for that on top of his usual price? He would succeed in his goal either way, no matter how long it took...but some ways could be more entertaining than others. Still, never hurt to ensure it. He smirked widely before whistling to get Yachiru and Lily’s attention. They wouldn’t want to miss this.

"It’s a deal. Don’t forget to play by the rules, now, Ki-chan~."

* * *

“Your rules are ridiculous,” Urahara said between pants, swiping the sweat away from his face with his arm. More than once, he looked over the rubble he was leaning on to make sure Kenpachi and the girls weren’t thinking about turning around and coming back.

Gin laughed from his perch, chin propped on his hand, idly spinning Urahara’s hat around a clawed finger. “Aren’t ya just out of shape, Ki-chan~? Can’t admit ya can’t beat a big ol’ brute in a fair fight?”

Urahara stared at him for a second before he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can't believe Kenpachi-taichou wasn't offended by your interference. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone cheat so extensively since—well, since Yoruichi.” 

“You started it,” Gin said with a wide grin, shamelessly pleased by the compliment. “Ken-chan wouldn't have been very entertained if I hadn't enforced the rules, no? _Onmitsukidou-chan~._ ”

Normal, ridiculous persona coming back full force, Urahara straightened back up and summoned his fan as if the fight had never happened. “I’ll take that as a compliment today, Ichimaru-san, considering I’m offering my special secret agent services just for you," he said cheerfully. He hopped up in front of Gin, reaching out to retrieve his hat.

Smile fading a tad, Gin leaned the hat back out of Urahara’s reach. 

They stayed like that for a moment, Urahara’s hand hanging mid-reach, tension thick between them.

Urahara’s eyes, not hidden under the shadow of his hat, were blatantly intent and evaluating. “Not backing out are you, Ichimaru-kun?” he murmured.

Gin let the tension remain a moment longer, before he stood with a huff. “Of course not. But this better be good—ya know I feel about yer offer.” He dangled the hat as a mocking lead as he walked away, looking for a specific patch of sand. 

“And that’s exactly what I kept in mind with this one,” Urahara said, falling into step with him and giving him the side-eye. “Surely you’re tired of...unexpected variables interfering with your attempts?” 

“Why, Ki-chan, it almost sounds like ya want me to think someone I know was doing that deliberately,” Gin said, ignoring his calculating stare with practiced ease. The man was always caught between taking the obvious explanation—that Shinji held a grudge for the betrayal—and wondering if something more complex wasn’t going on. 

Gin would have to figure out how Shinji found out this time...

Target found, he stepped onto the sand and _dropped_ , falling through into an underground cavern. As expected the ‘cavern’ was completely reshaped by the day’s activities—but all outside reiatsu was still completely muted by Hueco Mundo’s special sand. Perfect to prevent anyone _else_ dropping by with their commentary.

Urahara was right on his heels falling through the sinkhole disguised by quicksand, unconcerned by the change of scenery, and forging onwards. "Merely expressing my _empathy_ with your plight. You know how much I want my answers. So, as much as it hurts that you don’t trust me to help you directly—"

Gin laughed, finding a broken slab sticking out of the sand to settle on in the dark. He thought it might have been a table once.

"—I’ve come up with an alternative option you can’t refuse." Urahara snapped a kidou light into existence, giving the statement unnecessary gravitas. 

Comfortably laid back on the table, Gin didn’t spare him a glance, giving his attention to the way the light played on Urahara’s spinning hat. "Just keep in mind, all I’m going to be thinking about is the plan that resulted in Aizen merging the two Hougyoku and all but becoming a demi-god." 

"I thought we were past that,” Urahara protested, a hand over his heart. “You wanted him to use the orbs as much as I did! There was a mere...lack of communication—easily fixed in this case.”

The hat fell still as Gin sat up to actually look at Urahara. “Easily fixed? Something change since we last talked?” He and Urahara hadn’t lacked communication for want of _opportunity_. The only thing he could trust in their strange little relationship was that Urahara didn't trust him either. Any plan was only half-shared, silent caveats and contingencies and hidden motives like a chasm between them.

"Never hurts to ask!” Urahara said, cheer undimmed. Then pouted. “That’s hardly a fair point in any case. I was fully prepared. It might not have been as ironic as what you managed to orchestrate. Truly inspired that, a coup and caging him up as hollow entertainment, but—"

"Throwing Ichigo-kun at him until the kid awakened his full potential would’ve worked?" 

"That’s not what I would’ve called it—" Urahara cut off with a huff at Gin’s raised brow. "Not _just_ that." He gave Gin a measuring look. "You don’t think I knew what I was doing?" 

Gin didn’t even have to think about it, really. Urahara, the upstaged genius, had had a century to plot back up plan after back up plan after plan. That hadn’t been the problem. "Nah, your plan probably would’ve worked...eventually." _For you._

"If you hadn’t gotten there first." As always, the question of _how_ he'd managed it seemingly out of nowhere was burning in Urahara’s eyes. 

Gin didn't care to admit how little control he'd had over the result. He huffed. "Don’t mock me; how is this success?" Even his side-goal, temporarily successful with Aizen’s entire chest and torso and part of his bloody _neck_ disintegrated, hadn’t worked out. If only he’d died like he should have— 

The one thing he’d wanted above all else— _still_ wanted—was the one thing that hadn’t been accomplished. He flexed his hand, recalling the feeling of holding the Hougyoku for just a moment—not nearly long enough of a moment. A little longer and then Ran— 

He snapped his hand into a fist, claws digging into his palm, grounding him. This wouldn't be her last life. It was just a delay. 

Urahara’s fan fluttered, bringing Gin’s attention back to the man who wasn’t even bothering to pretend he wasn’t insanely curious.

Gin leaned back again. “Well, let’s hear it then. I’m listening.”

Five minutes later all Gin could do was laugh. He wiped a tear from his eye. “That’s definitely your best plan yet, Ki-chan.”

“Well, given the short notice and limited options..." Urahara started, then grinned as Gin laughed right over him. “Isn’t it, though?” 

“So you’ve got yer part covered, only the usual suspects in the know about our little chats and Lily already paid off well ahead of schedule,” Gin mused, propping his chin up on his hand. “I think the only thing ya missed was how yer planning to talk me into this.” 

Urahara widened his eyes, hand on his heart. “You need convincing to go after this goal you’ve chased for how many years now? That you even died for?” 

“Letting me near the bastard and the orb all unsupervised? No stipulations of spilling my secret evil plans? Seems either too good to be true or maybe..." Gin smiled his most snake-like smile, wide and full of warning. “Maybe yer thinking I’m too weak to do anything ya can’t handle?”

That got a genuine expression from Urahara, all quiet steel lying in wait. “Are you sure you want to know how much I may or may not be underestimating you?” 

_Clearly not enough_. If Urahara knew, not just the side-effects of what he was going to do, but also the potential consequences if things went wrong... There was a reason he’d considered asking Shinji at all—his old captain would’ve killed him quick if he got nervous. Urahara though... 

His smile morphed into one of mischief. “Aw, does buttering up my ego come with the deal? Cuz it seems to me, that only leaves one option: yer starting to get a little desperate, arentcha?” 

Even hidden behind his fan, Gin could see the moment Urahara decided to up his game. 

“Saigo-sensei may be holding me back as much as he is you—”

 _Hardly._

“—but i was under the impression you were getting a bit desperate as well, considering how your...perseverance with your goal is affecting certain relationships..." Gin doesn’t so much as flinch, so Urahara continued, “Matsumoto-san came by not too long ago, didn’t she? Was rather upset when she left, I heard..."

 _‘Ah, she’s so feisty, isn’t she?’_ The dismissive words Gin would’ve said to Aizen were almost reflexive, but they didn’t leave his mouth. He didn’t have to disrespect her to keep her safe anymore, but restraining the reflex ate up the time to respond naturally. Moment gone and no alternative for his own defense, he remained silent. 

Because she _didn’t understand._ And the explanation wouldn't improve the situation. He'd known since the beginning that there wasn't going to be a reward at the end, but nothing had prepared him for the reality of... _this._ Where she knew, but didn't _know,_ and was chasing him down with sometimes furious, sometimes disappointed, but always _wounded_ eyes, demanding he put an end to all this nonsense. Demanding he _change_ , back to the brother she’d lost to this stupid mess. 

_'Haven't you done enough?'_

Time’s value had risen exponentially. Every year that he kept his distance costing him more than five decades had Before, each visit only making things worse. Her pain, his guilt— 

_'How could you possibly have thought this was a price she'd be willing to accept?’_

His claws dug back into flesh, grounding him once more, pushing back the unwanted memories. 

If he’d lived through _succeeding_ , he could have disappeared, left her with better Family than he could ever be. If he’d died _after_ succeeding, that would’ve been more than acceptable. But this miserable place with all his sins revealed and unable to _leave_ with his goal _right there_ , yet still unfinished, was slowly driving him insane. 

Urahara’s deal was everything he needed. _Years_ from now. The perfect insurance for his own plan. He clutched a hand at his chest—at the _void_. To make it work _now_ , to be ready in time...well, there was a reason he’d never made those promises out loud. It wouldn’t be subtle. Anyone he was close to would notice. That number had grown, more than just one or two now, in this limbo where he hadn’t kept his distance like Before.

But in the end, that didn’t affect his decision. He’d already committed, thousands of lives sacrificed—there was no turning back now.

He dropped his hand from his chest, ignoring the void’s expansion, and gave Urahara a smile as he tossed him his hat. “The sooner the better.”

Urahara caught the hat but otherwise remained still, as if he hadn’t quite realized his patience had been rewarded with the answer he’d wanted. Whatever he thought about whatever he’d seen, some of his surety was gone. “If there’s something—”

“I was just figuring how I’m gonna keep Taichou out of things this time,” Gin said over him, adding just a little ruefulness to his smile for effect as he rolled to his feet. “Ya can get him out of Los Noches, but keeping him out if he gets it in his head otherwise?” Urahara started to interrupt, but Gin sped on: “Think that might blow yer cover, hm?”

Decision made, Urahara was the last person he wanted to spend his limited remaining time with. Careful to keep his pace at a nice meander, he walked away, raising a hand in farewell. “Be seeing ya.” 

“Ichimaru-san—”

Gin turned to walk backwards, holding out his hands. “It’s a deal, Ki-chan~. Sooner it’s done, the sooner ya get yer answers.”

With that, he left. Let Urahara obsess over this latest piece of the ‘Ichimaru puzzle.’

He had a soul piece to get back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really struggled on choosing the first chapters to this. And I'm not entirely confident of my portrayal on Yachiru—I'd love to hear your thoughts!  
> New Chapters will be posted minimum once a month, but hopefully more often depending on when I can get feedback.  
> Edit 8/20: Caught some repetition and tweaked a few things.  
> Edit 9/20 - Fully edited and expanded chapter!! Thanks to betareaders Ukranian Snowstorm and especially to trashtulip who helped me tear this chapter and put it back together!!  
> You can find them on ff.net and tumblr respectively. Any remaining mistakes are mine or my stubbornness lol.  
> Edit 1/21 - Caught a few more typos and changed some wording. Aaaand... I haven't quite kept to my one chapter a month promise - sometimes I need a little prodding!


	2. Give It Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Torture, Violence, Bigotry & Prejudice

_Brats_ — Gin’s thoughts  
_*Weaklings*_ — Other Voice

* * *

— Late Evening, Sometime in October, 1885 — Somewhere in the Mid-Districts, West Alley, Rukongai —

"Give it back." 

"We’re sorry! Please! We didn’t know she was anybody important!" the man begged as he tried to scramble away. One leg dragged, leaving only one good leg and his elbows to scuttle backwards. His clothing and skin tore and scraped over the forest floor, adding to the thick copper scent in the air, mangled hands utterly useless to help him. 

_Ah, yes, the downsides of choosing anonymity over infamy,_ Gin mused as he leisurely stalked after his target, following the trail of blood, unhindered by the heavy shadows of dusk. In another life, a single word from ‘Ichimaru Gin,’ the unpredictable and cold-hearted child prodigy that jumped the ranks, would’ve been enough to terrify all kinds of threats into keeping their distance. In this life, he had to settle for handing out individual lessons on fear after the fact. The limitation and its consequences did little to put him in a merciful mood. 

"Did ya listen when she begged?" Gin asked, tilting his head, not halting his steady advance or dropping his unnaturally wide smile. A good bit of ironic justice and tormenting souls to lighten his mood was the least of what these bastards owed him.

He soon replaced his first line of inquiry with a better one. "Did ya even give her the chance?" He tilted his head to the other side. "Or did ya take yer time and play with her?" 

The man stammered, sweat dripping long tracks through the blood splattered over his face. Even if Gin hadn't been able to see, hadn’t been able to sense every bit of reiatsu for kilometers around, the rank smell of fear would have given his prey away.

"There is no good choice, you fool!" the man’s teammate gritted out from where Gin had left her. She’d put up more of a fight and had suffered accordingly—she was barely able to prop herself up enough to look in their direction with the help of a nearby tree. Her quivering form, pouring out distressed and hateful reiatsu, was clear to Gin’s senses without needing to look—including her pathetic, fumbling attempts to gather her spare knife in her equally mangled hands. It was a rare soul that could cast kidou spells without their hands.

"Just give it to him!" 

"Ruining all my fun," Gin said with a pout, stopping just short of the man. He brought his ‘borrowed’ zanpakutou up to the officer’s throat, drawing the tip of the blade ever so lightly across the skin, leaving a thin trail of red behind. 

The man shuddered, but didn’t dare protest the use of his own zanpakutou against him—not after the first time. 

Lips tugging back into a smile, Gin poured out even more menace to underline his point. "But she’s right. Ya took something that didn’t belong to ya. Give it back." 

They both collapsed under the increased pressure of his killing intent, too battered to withstand it, filling the air with their wheezing breaths. The woman struggled up once more, but the man was disgraceful, making pathetic squeaks, his eyes rolling; a twitching, undignified mess.

The moment Gin let up on the pressure, the man was frantically trying to reach into his black shihakusho, not even attempting to sit up. _Alas, completely useless._ The floppy ends of his arms only scrabbled futilely at the uniform as he tried to stammer out more excuses. "I-I swear we didn't know! We’ll do a-any—I have it right—right here—we were just follow—"

"Following orders?" Gin asked, leaning in, raising a brow in an expression of surprise. "From the Gotei 13? Like she was a wanted criminal? A Rukongan girl?” He straightened, wide smile back with all the previous menace and then some. “Try again." A flick of the sword sliced across the man’s chest, spilling blood and the contents of his uniform—a single bag. 

"Gah! There, _there!_ What she had and more—it’s yours!" the man cried, crushing his useless arms to his chest in a desperate attempt to contain the bleeding. 

Gin toed the bag and it clinked—coins and metal scraps, no doubt. "What’s this?" 

Silence answered him—well, panting and groans and whimpers and the rustle of cloth and leaves as his prey tried to crawl away, but not a single word. He looked up at each one, uncaring if they saw his eyes through the gloom. There was blank confusion on the man's face and growing dread on the woman's. He kicked the bag to the side. "Try again." Of course, he already had what he came for, relieving the pressure of the barely contained maelstrom in his soul—but just killing them now would hardly be satisfying.

"Even shi-shinigami can’t bring souls back to life—!" the man tried, voice cracking as he curled up in a shivering, shaking mess. 

_How typical,_ Gin mused, listening to him whimper and his teeth clatter. Just another noble parasite, little more than a worm, crumpling before he was even aware of the breadth and scope of what Gin could do to him.

"Still not getting it. How ‘bout you?" Before the woman could get more than a few steps with a desperation-fueled burst of shunpo, Gin was right behind her, faster, sword at the ready. The blade slipped through her reiatsu, through the skin and muscle and bone of her leg, with a clear _snap_ , drowning out the soft thud as she fell to the ground, pinned. "Going somewhere?" He was only a little disappointed that she hadn't screamed. For a noble, she actually had some spine.

With a wordless howl, she pounded the ground with clenched fists, less than a meter away from her dropped zanpakutou. "We don’t know anything!" She almost managed to sound angry instead of terrified. "It was just a side job—we followed orders and got paid if we did what he asked without questions!" She glared at Gin over her shoulder, trying to struggle up onto her knees. "Just take it and go—if you kill us, you will be hunted down and hung up on Soukyoku Hill. It doesn’t matter how far out you are; they will find you!" 

Gin leaned down, casually twisting the sword until her entire body was twisting and rigid with the pain. "Tsk, tsk. If you, a minor junior officer, or even yer Family, actually mattered enough to get a special investigation launched into yer death, ya would’ve started with that, given me the big ‘noble family’ spiel. Never been killed before, Noble-chan?" 

She let out a helpless growl of frustration, hatred and anger surging. "Why does a stinking street rat like you know anything about this?" 

_Ah, the irony._ Aizen never did tell his noble minions how many of their fellows and even superiors were of 'lesser status.' 

"Funny thing to call someone crushing ya without using any of yer special spells, with one of yer own special swords, hmm? These weren’t supposed to work for others, were they?” Gin said, twisting the blade again to drive the point home. 

“More importantly: there's something else this ‘street rat’ knows that you don't." There was some movement behind him and he flicked a knife without looking—it always freaked low-levels like this out. It drew a satisfying aborted scream from the man and even the woman’s breath hitched. "Did ya know that shinigami and plus souls—even _nobles—_ can be dragged into hell when they die, just like the living? I know you lot like to think yer above it all, that the only punishments you'll face are the ones ya hand out yerselves—but that's all a bit convenient, isn't it?" 

The woman scoffed, but her face somehow managed to pale further under the smears of dirt, sweat, and blood. 

"What do ya think?" Gin asked. "Do ya think yer crimes are enough to damn ya to hell? Some say there is no worse crime, ruining a soul’s chance at reincarnation." He grinned wider. "Perhaps ya’d like to take yer chances in a hollow’s stomach instead?" He crouched down, real close, dropping his voice in mock intimacy. "Or perhaps ya like irony as much as I do—what about dying the same way as yer victims, never to reincarnate?" 

“That’s not—” she protested, jerking back.

“Oh?” Gin asked, smile growing as he leaned in closer, ‘accidentally’ rocking the sword. “Ya gonna try to convince me ya thought there was nothing odd about souls _disintegrating_ inside their clothes? That ya didn’t know?”

Her eyes hardened and flashed and she demanded, "Not afraid of hell?” some color returning to her face with spite. “You'll be damned the same as us if it's even true."

"Oh, I’m already damned," Gin told her with an unnaturally wide smile. It was probably true. "What’s one or two more souls?" 

"Even that fool will never hand the orb over now—and without our key it’s—"

"Useless?" With dramatic flare, Gin produced the small copy-orb from his sleeve and rolled it over and between his fingers—it glowed under his touch, ready and active, protective ward missing. He held it up like a precious jewel, the glow of half a dozen or so souls casting eerie, flickering light over the clearing. “I wouldn’t call this little thing useless at all. Ripping pieces of soul out of poor, defenseless Rukongans on yer whim is no small thing.” They were lucky the damage could be reversed in this case, or he would have been willing to find out if a few extra soul pieces helped the healing process any. “Just a shadow of the real thing, of course, but with real skill, one might even be able to casually take the souls of low-level shinigami,” he said with no little malicious glee. “So benign, yet so evil.”

She jerked back, obviously having forgotten the zanpakutou pinning her to the ground. In pain and shock, she screamed out for the first time, the threat of her soul's destruction overwhelming her previous restraint. 

The man finally caught on as well, exclaiming his denial before adding his stammering questions to hers: "Whe—how?" 

"First thing I did, snatching this off ya," Gin explained, casually straightening up and enjoying a breath of fresher air. 

“A s-street rat couldn’t—! O-only a shinigami—you’re—?” The man was _still_ slow on the uptake. 

Gin tilted his head back in the man’s direction but didn’t break eye contact with the woman. “How else would I know how to use kidou and bypass wards, hmm? But a Rukongan officer, out in the Alleys, out of uniform? _Off duty?_ That’s not allowed. Why, the level of permission I would’ve had to get—it’s almost more likely that—”

“O-one of the Families adopted you? But we would’ve heard—” the man stuttered with disbelief, but this somehow managed to sink the last nail home on the situation he was in and his terrified reiatsu exploded around him. Reason gone, he scrambled once more to get away, pain seemingly forgotten. 

Gin only continued to smile, focusing on the woman’s reactions as she started to fold, rolling the copy-orb between his fingers. _So easy._ “Either way, don’t doubt that I have the skill to use our little friend here.”

"You didn’t even need anything from us—" the woman whispered, voice breaking halfway through, broken fingernails tearing long gouges down her face and neck.

"Now, now, that’s not true. Had to stick around to see if I needed any extra hints to break the cute little ward on it—which left me with spare time and two despicable noble parasites on my hands. I think ya can figure out the rest yerselves, eh?"

Without waiting for her next response, he rose to his feet, leaving the sword in place. He was suddenly tired of it all, fatigue settling back in. There was still time left to really break them down and make them suffer. But what was the point? Besides, his team had finally done their part. "Time’s up, ladies and gents! Now I get to choose and I choose..." he paused to meet the woman’s eyes one last time, to let her savor the moment. "Hollow stomach first, _then_ hell—there’s not actually any way out of that one. Have fun!" 

A single shunpo step and Gin was gone from the sight and senses of his victims, but still close enough in the branches of a nearby tree to watch everything unfold. One signal was all it took; within minutes a swarm of hollows converged on the fools—it wasn’t nearly long enough for them to escape their fate.

_A hollow victory. Hah._

Worse than the exhaustion, dissatisfaction curled inside his soul, threatening to overwhelm him. No resolution of mere _symptoms_ could ever be enough. He clutched at the ache in his chest. But knowing his moment of solitude wouldn’t last now that his team was free of their charges, he steeled himself against it with practiced ease and dropped his hand, slipping on the same insouciant facade he’d maintained since this whole thing started. 

One by one, the team, the blur of names and faces that he’d suddenly been tasked to babysit, joined him to bear not-so-silent witness as the nobles put up their last, desperate, and futile resistance. Mutters of ‘Serves ya right—child murderers,’ ‘leeches,’ ‘for all the atrocities ya stood by and watched,’ ‘for all the atrocities ya committed,’ and worse ran thick and hot with vindictive satisfaction amongst them. 

They didn’t know the true crime these nobles in particular had committed, not really. The knowledge was a one-way ticket to snagging the worst sort of attention imaginable and so they hated them for attacking a child. For the complex crime of being noble. 

If Gin had even an iota more energy, he might’ve begrudged them their moment of straightforward vengeance. Not even an hour ago, the idealistic fools had expected him to divert attention from their real mission for mere _hollow attacks._ Expected him— _trusted_ him—to put aside the burning _need_ to get back what was stolen, come up with a new plan on the spot and still get to their targets before they got out of range, before they got to _safety_. 

Always he had to do _more._

_*Would Ran have expected any less?*_

But as it was, he _was_ too tired to be bitter. And even in their Rukongan, self-righteous rage, they had kept their reiatsu pulled close, kept their faces hidden under their hoods, and hadn’t needed him to rescue them from their self-appointed task. They'd collectively taken on more hollows in a night than most teams their rank saw in a week. Later, he could look back on this night and be smug that they were hiding so much wasted potential from their official superiors. 

Now he just wanted the hollows to be done. So they could _leave_ , regardless of how much the exhausted, idealistic fools needed the break. The sooner they got back to Saigo and the girl—and _Ran_ —the better.

_*Weak. They’re useless and you’re weak—*_

The hollows in question, finally finished with their shinigami prey, looked about warily. But even with their numbers reduced and bearing the wounds from the team’s ‘herding’ efforts, they still counted closer to a dozen. While a few immediately summoned garganta, disappearing back through the portals to the deserts of Hueco Mundo, not all of them were satisfied enough with the split meal to leave. Their gathered numbers were enough to eat their way across the countryside with little opposition.

As one, Gin and the team leapt forward to encircle the air above the clearing in a less than subtle warning. 

Gin took a further step, successfully drawing the attention of the hollows to him alone. “In thanks for taking out the trash, ya’ve got a choice: go home or die,” he told them cheerfully, letting a taste of his killing intent leak out. The team echoed the move, flooding the hollows from every direction. 

Arguments rose up among the hollows as they tried to talk one another into attacking first, warily identifying the cloaked souls as the menaces responsible for ‘leading’ them here. The thrown together group had no cohesion, not even a hierarchy yet. They were smart enough to know it put them at a disadvantage—but not wary enough.

“They’ve barely got a bit of power between them, nothing more than plus who’ve picked up a few shinigami tricks.”

“That’s right! No uniforms, no swords-we can take them!” 

Annoyed, Gin stepped down even closer to let them get a good look at him and held out two fingers to fire off a kidou spell, the exclusive skill of the shinigami. He only gave the low-level Bakudou, Sai, enough power to wrench the arms of the strongest hollow behind his back, toppling him over into the others. 

“Last warning. This is our territory.” He widened his smile and narrowed the focus of his killing intent around their throats until they were clawing at the invisible nooses. “We’ll let you decide if we’re shinigami as we kill ya now, if ya like.” He leaned forward, pouring out a fraction more of his smoldering emotions into his killing intent, making them stagger and their eyes bug out. “Or if ya ever come back here. Yer more than welcome~!” 

With yelps and cries of terror the hollows finally made a break for it, disappearing into their garganta and leaving silence in their wake. 

“Kinda went easy on ‘em, eh, Ani-I mean, Senpai~?” the brattiest of all the brats said, bouncing down to Gin’s side, hood falling off. 

“Tch. Don’t start unnecessary fights when ya’ve got work to do,” Gin said with a heartfelt sigh, roughly ruffling Brat’s hair in warning for the almost slip. “Put yer hood back on.”

The kid was already flagging, scraped, burned, and blood-covered, same as the others. This had been meant as a _training mission_ for them, no matter how much it had derailed. They'd only be more of a burden in a fight when he was already running on fumes and menace himself. “Back to work in five, brats,” he announced, as he leapt back to the height of the others. 

Needing some space and quiet, he told them he was going to scan the area again for other teams and scouts nearby. His hand was immediately clutching at his chest again the moment his back was to them. 

_*Ya knew their limits—ya should have done_ more _—! How much longer will it take them to get back, do ya think? Only twice? Three times as long? Or were ya thinking ya could leave them here to—*_

“—more work? Does he mean those weren’t the right nobles?” Gin heard Bratty ask, breaking into Gin’s concentration before he’d managed to escape. “They didn’t have the poison?” There wasn’t an ounce of concern or unease in his tone or reiatsu. 

Dropping his hand, Gin turned to stare blankly as the rest of the team chided the br—Tetsuo; the brat’s name was Tetsuo. One of the newer recruits with a lot of potential he'd been hiding, Gin reluctantly recalled as he realized he was going to have to keep an eye on him. 

With a sharper focus, he realized even the older members weren't one hundred percent confident either. Not about the thieves—but they weren’t positive their mission would succeed where it mattered. If a mere sample of the ‘poison’ they thought they were retrieving would be enough, or, even if they were lucky enough the bastards were carrying the ‘antidote,’ that they would get back in time.

Tch. He wasn’t in the mood to get doubt from anyone else.

“Of course they had it!” Gin said, grabbing the group’s attention, playing his role and tilting a reassuring, cocky smirk at them. “Haven’t ya heard? I can sense corruption districts away!” 

It had the intended effect, the group breaking into laughter and elbowing each other with jibes about their silly doubts. How could they doubt ‘Gin-senpai’ had everything handled?

Gin cynically noted that apparently they were tired enough for the question, _'why didn't he prevent the girl from being attacked in the first place then?'_ to not occur to them.

But one problem still remained. 

Gin caught Tetsuo’s eye and placed a hand on his hip, wagging a finger. “Oi, oi, Tetsuo-chan, ya gotta be careful with that kind of mentality. Suddenly ya can indiscriminately murder nobles because ya know how to level the playing fields a bit?” 

A flush rose to the brat’s cheeks, but he was not nearly abashed enough, shrugging his shoulders as he threw out his hands. “Eh~? They’re _nobles_.” 

_Who let this brat out on a mission like this?_

He did. _He_ was the one that hadn't been paying enough attention to what long term affect there would be from giving a bunch of embittered brats a go ahead to kill their oppressors. Now he was definitely wishing he’d rejected the ‘suggestion’ to take anyone with him.

Pressing his fingers to his furled brow, Gin dramatically inhaled through his teeth until he could feel the kid’s confidence and attitude falter. Then he let it out in a rush and signalled the group to head out. 

Still laughing, the group gave Tetsuo commiserating pats on the way past. 

Before Tetsuo could slink away with them, Gin snagged his shoulder. “Yer going to run ahead with me, yeah?” he told him with only a _mildly_ malicious smile. When the kid shuddered and paled, not daring to look away, he even only let his smile widen a _teensy_ bit. 

* * *

The darkness of complete nightfall, only stars to light the way, didn’t hinder Gin’s navigation in the slightest and the team followed him without hesitation as he set off. And didn't complain as he set a pace that would have them collapsing the moment they got back—a speed most shinigami would consider suicidal in the dark. 

_*Hah. Overstating their abilities, aren’t ya? Planning to carry them all back? Could ya? Can ya even remember the last time ya slept?*_

“—going to lecture me?” 

Gin just caught the end of Tetsuo’s comment but smoothly glanced over with a mocking smile. “Ah, I was just trying to remember if I’ve ever had to point this out to someone after they’ve entered the Academy. Or even just been inside Seireitei’s walls for the first time.”

Actually missing a step, the kid fell away before catching back up in a rush; face, ears, and neck beet red. The wind stole away some indecipherable mumble, but Gin wasn’t about to let the matter go. 

"This isn't the reason we came out here, was it?" Gin started. Normally he'd call the brat a fool for challenging him to say something that wouldn't go right out the other ear. But he was struggling to find the words after everything that had happened today.

"No," Tetsuo muttered, the 'but' hanging all too clearly between them.

Gin had to give the kid credit for being a brazen little shit. "And has anything in our situation changed?"

A maelstrom of emotions swallowed the brat, suffusing his reiatsu, full of _possibility_ and _triumph_ and vicious _retribution_. All but asking Gin, _‘What hasn’t changed?’_

Heaving a sigh, Gin glanced over at the kid's consternation with his usual mocking smile. "Wrong answer~. If we—if _I_ —could just waltz up to any noble I wanted and off 'em whenever I liked with a little hollow help—how far down my list do ya think I would've gotten?" 

Gin's list had always been short; he was generally immune to the despicable nature of all souls and usually didn't have much trouble _correcting_ troublesome behavior one way or another, with few exceptions. Yet of late, it had been growing more quickly than he could remove names.

_*Only because ya refuse to take the power right in front of ya—!*_

Tetsuo clearly had the impression he had a _very_ long list, staying quiet for some time as he thought the question over.

"There would be a huge fuss, even if it was just more noble officers dying from hollow attacks," the brat finally concluded, previous energy subdued and bitterness back full force. 

Maybe this was going to be easier than he’d thought, Gin mused. "And if ya forgot me mentioning it earlier, it's not just other teams noticing ya got to be wary of. It's Onmitsukidou agents and scouts running around all over the place."

“I understand, sir,” the kid answered, head bowed. 

But Gin didn’t rely on his eyes and ears and knew better than to take the kid at his word. “Do ya really? Cuz as good as all you lot were tonight, it wouldn't have been enough if there were any unwanted shadows nearby."

That gets the brat's attention, surprised. And he wasn't alone, the rest of the team, shamelessly eavesdropping, also reacted with little spikes of worry and glances at one another. They always seemed to forget he didn't need to see to notice. It was only a little bit of a stretch, as they'd go unnoticed by the average agent at a distance, but it was better they were paranoid than careless. It only took one better than average agent; only took losing track of one _average_ agent.

"Tonight was special—they were already avoiding Onmitsukidou attention themselves. Probably bribed them to focus on the other teams. But that's hardly the norm. Even with a good sensor like me, it's a risk, trying to keep track of and predict the movements of other sensors in the middle of a fight. Ya going to feel bitter and indignant when ya get one of us or yerself caught cause ya thought ya could get away with it with a few tricks?” He was completely immune to the kid’s stricken face and tumble of negative emotions.

 _*What are_ you _going to feel then? Considering if ya would just do more, ya wouldn’t have been saddled with them to begin with!*_

“That's not why we're out here," Gin finished, but knew it was poor conciliation. "In any case,” he added, not able to enjoy letting the kid stew in it, forcing his smile and tone back to normal, “only ninety-seven out of a hundred nobles are scum—” _same as the rest of humanity; living, plus, and hollow alike “_ —and it’s probably not worth risking killing the last three percent, no?” 

A different group would’ve taken it as the dark sarcasm it was and added their own mocking rejoinders, Gin mused with a pang of soul-deep longing as _this_ group agreed and laughed like it was a good-natured joke. Good-hearted, idealistic brats, the lot of them—even murderous little Tetsuo was all sheepish, ‘haha, yeah, we wouldn’t want to kill a _decent_ noble by accident.’

“That’s right!” One of the others cried out, grabbing onto the lighter mood. “What if we killed one of Gin-senpai’s ‘charitable benefactors?’”

Gin held in a snort at the thought of anyone _accidentally_ killing two of the oldest Captains in the Gotei 13, but didn’t deter the banter. “There’s not exactly a shortage of ‘charitable’ nobles,” Gin noted, flourishing a light-fingered hand with a smug smirk. 

“Not the money, Senpai! The _honkaku_ shochu! The _junmai_ sake! What would we do without your alcohol-obsessed ‘benefactors?’” 

As Gin dissolved into laughter with the rest of the group, he wryly noted that he should probably source a few barrels from somewhere else before they realized _exactly_ how exclusive some of Shunsui’s ‘donations’ had been. Naturally, their talk shifted to the best food and drink in and out of Seireitei’s walls and Gin let the team take over the conversation, only contributing occasionally. 

There was no reason _they_ couldn’t enjoy the rest of the trip while they still had the energy to do so. _They_ wouldn't be haunted by memories on the trip back. Memories of a different girl and a different orb. 

If only their banter was enough to distract him.

_*How much energy are they wasting like this, do ya think? Can ya afford to let—?*_

It was going to be a long trip. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All comments, questions, and critiques are welcome.  
> Actively seeking Constructive Criticism and a beta reader.  
> Edit: 8/20 - It was pointed out to me that it's not clear where the noble lady was stabbed. Apparently I forgot that little tidbit on a previous edit. -_-' I've now fixed it - Gin stabs her in the leg. Thank you very much for pointing that out for me - you know who you are!  
> Edit: 12/20 - Now properly betaread! Thanks to Ukranian Snowstorm and trashtulip for helping me clean this up! Mostly small changes for consistency and improved flow rather than structural changes for this one. And a few additions and tweaks to cover the previous ch 3 (now deleted).  
> Edit 1/21 - I swear every time i read it I find something new I've missed. Mainly just typos but also the way the team and Gin speak vs how the nobles speak. If anyone has any recommendations on more 'formal/sophisticated' speech vs supposedly 'uneducated' speech, pls let me know. I personally think getting a uniquely identifiable voice for each character is one of my biggest weaknesses, so any hints/tips/comments would be appreciated.


	3. Saigo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the new ch 3! check out the end notes for more info.
> 
> CW: Minor self-harm. See notes at bottom.

_Brats_ \- Gin’s thoughts  
_*Weaklings*_ \- Other Voice

* * *

— Later that Night, October 1885 - Somewhere in the Mid-Districts, West Alley, Rukongai —

Light spilled into the darkness from the village, still filled with the low murmur of voices and activity despite the late hour. Before they even set foot on the main street they were greeted with offers of food and a place to sleep.

He barely managed a distracted promise to rejoin the team later with news, already focused on a little home off to the side before it was pointed out to him. There hadn’t really been a chance that he would be too late, not with Saigo on hand, but a knot still loosened in his gut as he felt the second flame next to Ran’s familiar one. It was wavering and weak, but still present, not in danger of flickering out. 

The copy-orb clutched in his hand would help her, but it wouldn’t fix the damage that had been done tonight and he knew it. 

_‘How’d you let this happen?’_ She’d never said it, but he could hear it in her voice as clearly if she’d asked it a dozen times.

Still, he forced himself on, slipping into the room Saigo and Ran had taken over, taking in the blazing fire, the scattered mess of bowls and cloths and blankets. 

Ran didn’t notice him come in, sitting as if in jinzen, eyes closed, hands glowing green with healing kaidou where they touched the girl. Probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped back out either, he thought as he passed the orb into Saigo’s outstretched hand. 

Annoyance flickered through him when Saigo didn’t even spare him a glance, but relief came just as quickly. He wasn’t looking forward to the conversation he knew was sure to come. 

The energy in the room shifted as the light of the orb flickered and the girl began to stir. Feeble noises of protests competed with the crackling of the fire. It was all too familiar to him and he forced himself to focus on the here and now, on Ran who was whole and healthy and _fine_. 

He could have left, claimed he hadn’t wanted to distract her. The orb’s presence would be answer enough for most of her questions. She’d probably be too tired to seek him or the others out tonight, but word would spread enough for her to get answers in the morning even if he was gone. 

But she was more than just tired, her reiatsu sluggish, her brow creased as she struggled to keep the flow of energy for kaidou stable and smooth. Sweat beaded her forehead and dark tendrils of hair stuck to the sides of her face. Even as he watched, she started chewing on her lip as she always did when she was upset. It had been years before she’d managed to break the habit. 

Forgetting his own unease, he reached out and brushed her shoulder to get her attention, kneeling down beside her.

As if coming out of a trance, Ran blinked blearily a few times, staring around without seeming to register what she was seeing. 

He let her take her time in peace, distracting himself by adding his own kaidou to her efforts, lending his reiatsu to Saigo. 

Her breath hitching and her reiatsu spiking warned him before her hand latched onto his in a death grip. “You got it,” she said on a breath. 

“Of course,” he agreed lightly. Was that relief, surprise? He couldn’t decide if he wanted it to be there or for her overwhelming trust to be back. “Took care of the owners, too. Fed ‘em to some hollows.”

Ran’s features darkened, the grip that had loosened on his hand tightening once more. With hours to cool off, he wasn’t surprised she was doubting the morality of such an execution. But the girl stirred and whimpered and with a slow exhale, Ran turned back to her and busied herself replacing the cloth on the girl’s forehead with a cooler one. “How could they do something like this? What could they possibly get by—by—”

_By tearing souls apart._

He sighed. 

The easy answer, the one she wanted to hear, was that nobles were simply evil, that they were promised fantastic rewards for stooping so low. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the real answer. How easy it was to find souls, noble and Rukongan alike, that were willing even to destroy other souls’ chances at reincarnating for the price of a bit of coin or a small advantage over a rival. 

“The team wasn't half-bad," Gin said to break the tension. "Obviously, they’ll still need more training, but they came out with only exhaustion and minor injuries—"

As predicted, Ran jumped onto the new subject: "Injuries?" she asked, turning to him with a frown. “Did you—you didn’t let them fight with that scum, did you?” 

_‘Is it just me you won’t let fight?’_ is what he heard. He summoned up a bemused smile in place of his usual mocking. “They’re not that good.” 

Without waiting for her reaction he continued. “We ran into some hollows on the way, took a bit of a detour.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and a sheepish smile. “They’re probably telling the others tales now—they weren’t too sore about being left behind?”

A sharp scowl took over her face and she swiped the sweat off her face with idle aggression. “Some of those little shits threw a fuss over Tetsuo-kun getting to go when they were ‘older and more qualified,’ but I got ‘em sorted out. Thinking they can play me just ‘cause I felt a little guilty—ha! See if they try that again..." she trailed off, muttering darkly under her breath. 

Gin didn’t hide his wince. “I..."

“Forgot how young he is? His nonexistent rank? Or ya never bothered to find out?” Ran asked, wry and not at all surprised. 

“Eh~? If age suddenly determines skill, that'd put ya somewhere near the bottom, wouldn't it?" Ran's brow twitched and Gin held up his hands. "Or yer secretly an old lady stuck in a child's body?"

Ran huffed, but only gave him a token smile before she turned back to her charge. 

His smile fell and he glanced towards the door. _Soon_ , he reassured himself. “Has she woken up yet?” he murmured into the awkward silence.

“A couple of times. Screaming every time.” She licked her lips, nodded to herself, and tried to smile. “It was a good thing I was here.” 

If she'd gone—the very thought of her getting near any of Aizen's minions hit him as hard as it had when they'd first discussed it. “Saigo couldn’t have healed her without you,” he murmured and squeezed her shoulder in reassurance, then withdrew his hand before she noticed the way it had started to shake. He slipped them into his sleeves when she turned to him with a warm but weak, unconvinced, smile. He could already feel the nightmares to come—of being too late, her sleeve slipping from his fingers as she jumped right into the bastards’ midst, ready to recreate his worst memory. 

He flexed his fingers, carefully not disturbing the cloth, and decided it was time to go. “It’s true, ya know, yer the only one that would have had enough reiatsu and skill after me and yer almost out. Ya’ve been at this too long as it is, Ran, ya need to eat. Akio can take over for the last bit.” It was a cheap manipulation, but he’d reached his limit. 

“Oh, you must be starving yerself—go ahead without me, I..." she trailed off, staring down at the feverish girl with sad eyes. “I’ll need to make sure Akio knows what he’s doing.”

She glanced over at Saigo's closed eyes, the glowing orb in his hand, before turning back to Gin with a meaningful look. “Wait up for me?”

“Of course,” Gin promised without hesitation. 

She would pass out before she could ambush him with questions he couldn’t answer. 

* * *

The night was pitch-black now, even the stars now hidden by heavy cloud cover. His fingers tapped restlessly against his arm as he stared out over the view he had to settle for. From the rocky prominence he stood on, the land was empty, dark, and silent in every direction; colors, shapes, and even reiatsu muted by the distance. For a cursed moment, even the wind, normally lively this high up, was quiet.

It mirrored the growing emptiness in his soul. Even with events settled, his efforts against it were a losing battle, and a lackluster one at that.

Yet he couldn't shut his eyes against the unsettling sight—that only invited the flood of memories he’d rather never remember.

They’d long since grown unbearable.

A bark of laughter from the house he and his team had been lent for the night caught his ear, and he half turned to look over his shoulder, but caught himself, brow twitching. Their good cheer in the wake of their ‘victory’ only caused a spike of bitterness.

Going in, Gin had known that vengeance couldn’t satisfy the emptiness inside or repair the damage done. So he hadn’t planned on more than a swift tutorial on a traceless kill and an even swifter retrieval. It wasn’t _enough_ to make the parasites suffer. Wasn’t even enough to retrieve the stolen soul piece.

Nothing short of ending all the little minions running about would make up for the place he’d lost in Ran’s eyes that day. It was a horrible wake-up call to Gin’s complacency with his knowledge advantage, a reminder of Aizen’s omnipresent reach. _He_ was the real perpetrator, he was the one that needed to—

* _Suffer! Make him pay-!*_

Gin grimaced, sharp nails digging into his skin as his hands flexed around his arms. Even if he could track Aizen’s movements, even if the bastard didn’t yet have the technological reach, every agent he converted for his own purposes, every officer he bribed to do ‘side-missions,’ made up a vast web that could extend out to the farthest reaches of the Rukongai on a whim with none the wiser. 

None except Gin. 

_*Not anymore—can ya promise Ran something like this won't happen again?*_

The thought sent a rush of ice through his veins, through his soul. He pressed a hand against his eyes trying to push it back—but that only invited _them:_ thousands of memories of souls suffering, feverish and delusional, seizing and crumbling to nothing under his uncaring eyes. 

He wrenched his eyes open before he could see the one memory that would never leave him—the one soul he did care about suffering like the others. She'd been so _close_. He twitched with aborted fury, but other memories soon rushed in—thousands of other souls succumbing to the same affliction, the feverish delusions—maybe this was justice. He should have had empathy, should have cared. Like she did.

Now he didn’t have a choice. 

Voices rose from behind him and he half-turned once more, imagining the ruckus they were causing in the little house—little more than a hut really. Another team had arrived to be awed and jealous of tales of their mini adventure. In the wake, their attempts at murmuring were forgotten, their low key excitement escalating into careless abandon. 

It wouldn't last long. The energy they'd regained from collapsing around the fire and inhaling a large dinner would soon fade and drag them into sleep.

Gin could feel the pull himself. As much as he’d eaten, food alone wouldn’t help at this point. But his soul shuddered at the very thought. If he hadn't _slipped_ , hadn't lost awareness, none of this would have happened; the girl never would have been attacked; Ran never would have been the one to notice first.It didn't matter how many more they had standing watch now, that tried and trusted help was on hand, that there weren't any more teams besides their own left for kilometers around.

Rolling his head and shoulders in a futile attempt to relieve the tension, he tried to latch onto the teams’ voices instead. ‘Next time,’ and ‘—do more—’ and ‘—with Gin-aniki we can take on even stronger—’ were all he needed to pick up before he was cursing, pressing at the pressure rising in his eyes once more. He’d told them not to expect a repeat. “Don’t those little shits remember I can hear them?” he said on a hiss, not sure if he wanted them to hear him in turn. 

_*If ya don’t want to babysit, then maybe ya should do_ more! _Quit holding back and—!*_

Startled cries yanked him back to the present and he whirled around with a rush of adrenaline. It took several steps before he was able to forcefully calm himself. Before he could properly _think_. His reikakou didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary, and if he couldn’t sense anybody inside the forest besides the team it could only mean—

“Saigo-sensei! Don’t sneak up on people like that! Yer like a ghost!” one of the team cried. 

“A ghost among ghosts!” Someone else joked, leading the whole group to dissolve into laughter. Gin wasn’t sure if he imagined Saigo’s breathy chuckles mixed in. 

“Oi, oi, shut up you lot. Saigo-sensei, how is she? Did we get ya the poison in time?” 

That quieted the whole group enough that Gin could easily make out Saigo’s quiet voice, irritation and all: “Obviously she’s fine—who do you think I am? I spend an entire night working and this is the thanks I get?” 

Before they could properly profess their gratitude and awe, Saigo sent the team scrambling with a list of tasks and errands he ‘needed’ done post-haste. 

Leaving just him and Gin. 

Gin turned back out to the nightscape, stepping back to the edge of the cliff, steeling his soul to deal with Saigo. A minute later a phantom hand brushed up against his arm without warning. He didn’t flinch. The lack of warning or echoing reiatsu in the touch had long since become familiar. 

"You’re ready to kill him now?" Saigo asked—as predicted, as he’d done half a dozen times over the last couple of years. His voice was a low murmur in Gin’s ear, solemn and almost gentle. 

Almost. It was a thin veneer over the obsession Saigo’s had since the first day they met—and Gin _knew_ him, but Saigo didn’t. He could have blamed it on the fog that sometimes clouded Saigo’s mind, except that Saigo was focused _now—_ he _knew,_ the asshole. But there was only turmoil here, not _weakness_.“What took ya so long?" Gin asked, voice normal and light only by habit. 

"What took _me_ so long? Healing like that takes as long as it takes; maybe you should give it a try," Saigo said, like he was the one that had the right to be offended. "Are you ready to—"

"Nope."

Saigo moved around to stand in front of Gin, grip tightening on his arm, brow furrowed and eyes searching. Like some unholy apparition, the gloom of the night lent Saigo an unearthly beauty: his long black hair faded into the night while his green eyes nearly seemed to glow against his pale skin. 

Gin had started to associate the bright shine of those eyes, the sign of Saigo’s attention to the here and now, with bad things all around: especially unpleasant conversations and stubborn fixation.

"How is she?"

"She's well on her way to recovery, no risk of relapse. She won't be able to take more lessons from Rangiku for some time—but she'll grow into more reiryouku soon enough."

Gin hummed and didn't so much as twitch but Saigo raised a brow anyway.

"You couldn't have been asking about Rangiku who you well know is perfectly fine; sleeping off the fatigue just like you should be doing,” Saigo said and shoved a piece of dried fruit into Gin’s free hand. 

Gin almost refused to take the pitiful bribe, thought about telling Saigo that a piece of fruit wasn’t any kind of cushion for half the things he said on the topic most days, let alone _tonight_. Silently, he popped it into his mouth as Saigo did the same. The sweet, tangy flavor of the rare and exotic fruit flooded his mouth and ever so slightly warmed his soul with fleeting good memories. 

It only lasted a moment—then Saigo spoke. Soft, _understanding_. "You can't keep this up much longer. You need help."

“How rude. Thought ya liked my ‘help.’ I’ll be sure to let ‘em know yer real feelings.” 

“You have _two_ souls. That is hardly satisfactory.”

Gin wasn't sure if Saigo was including Ran in that count, but the standard remained the same. No one on the teams came close. "Ya want to try and tell me ya think those brats _added_ anything? That they were _helpful?"_ he challenged, tipping his chin up with a _not-nice_ smile. He may have owed Saigo for manipulating Ran into staying behind and knew bringing the team was a worthwhile investment, but he didn’t have to be happy about it.

A snarl answered him, Saigo’s soft veneer disappearing. "Your _extra_ power isn't meant to be used as a stimulant when you're barely standing because you can't tell a little girl that you're not as omnipotent as you've led her to believe!"

"Tch." Violence built under Gin's skin, itching to be unleashed and _prove_ just what he could do while he was 'barely standing.' "Seems to me, I'm not the only one who should've noticed worms nearby," he said, voice extra light with warning. He wasn't in the mood.

Saigo threw a hand out to the side, dismissing that. "Nice try, but we both know it didn't even occur to you to blame me till just now. You need to stop thinking that you're the only solution to all her problems. You shouldn't have had to chase those worms down yourself—you have more important things to be doing."

Gin huffed, rubbing at his eyes. "Like teaching brats how to ally with hollows so they can start a war?"

"Or getting _real_ revenge," Saigo counters.

The only response Gin could muster for that was a scoff.

Saigo's eyes narrowed. "You don't think Rangiku wants revenge? _You_ don't want revenge? Not against these endless puppets, but against the man that gave the orders?"

Bitterness surged inside him as Saigo echoed his own, earlier thoughts. He restrained it, buried it deep, before it could turn on Saigo for the underhanded manipulation.

"Where’s all that wisdom, _Sensei?_ Revenge is meaningless," Gin retorted, as he'd been unable to alone with his soul. Past the heat of the moment, Ran knew it, too. Seeing a flash of Aizen's disintegrating face and the accompanying flare of dissatisfaction only cemented the fact, letting him push back the rage even further. All leaving him further soured him on the conversation. Revenge wasn't what they needed.

"Revenge might not bring any pleasure," Saigo said slowly, "but it can prevent further losses." His eyes were still searching Gin’s, feeling off-kilter, a piece of his precious fruit dangling forgotten in his other hand. 

_This_ Saigo, more energetic and with more focus— _younger_ —didn’t seem used to not being able to predict an outcome. Or maybe he simply felt half Gin’s soul screaming out its desire for vengeance. For _everything_ he’d lost. Not even Saigo could truly know him, he thought, bitterness, pride, and longing stirring low in his gut.

Stealing a piece from Saigo’s fingers made the fruit all the sweeter as he stalled for a moment to gather himself. "Never known a hopeless war that prevented loss," Gin said mildly, feeling the stillness spreading through him. _How many years wasted on that bastard—and for what?_ "Becoming less appealing than other targets—that’s a bit more realistic and effective, no?" 

Saigo narrowed his eyes, hand twitching on nothing before it dived back into the bag. "Did you forget what I offered for his death?"

 _"_ How could ya possibly think I could forget?" Gin asked, studying his bloodstained hands in the narrow space between them—they looked clean, white and grey in the night, but every blink stained them crimson and reminded him of their real color. "A soul." He clenched his hands into fists, nails cutting into his palms. The cold spread ahead of the emptiness inside him now and he didn’t fight it. "Someone I’ve lost." 

_*Take it, take it!*_

Gin closed his eyes and tilted his head back, breathing deep though the surge of emotions. "Seems yer the one that’s forgotten: we already have another deal on that." 

Saigo squeezed his arm until Gin looked at him again—into ancient, knowing eyes—holding out another damned fruit. "You only need the one?" 

Curse the man and his random bouts of perceptiveness; his soul roiled and near-exploded with _want need take!_ He pulled out of Saigo’s grip, ignoring the fruit. "Bit of a cruel offer considering I’d die before succeeding." It’d taken a century the first time, and over a decade the next, to gather the necessary power and he’d lost it all once more and then some. Right now he was making do with superior skill and technique—that wasn’t enough against an opponent like Aizen.

_*He doesn’t know what he’s asking, just tell him—we can do it—you’ve wasted four years on the long way—take it!*_

Gin grimaced, struggling to focus enough to take another step. To _get away_. 

Saigo snagged Gin’s sleeve before he could recover, not letting him go. "How could I let you die when we’re still in the early stages of our bet? This isn’t as impossible as you’re making it out to be—there’s a simple solution." 

Unfamiliar heat rushed up Gin’s veins, accompanied by flashes of the images that had been haunting his dreams. He whirled on Saigo before he could suppress it. "Is there really?" 

_*How dare he—!*_

"Even Yamamoto himself isn’t immune to assassination," Saigo pressed, furrow between his brows deepening.

"Even Yamamoto himself could not kill Aizen," Gin mocked, testing Saigo’s grip on his arm—like iron. A bad example, really; Aizen had specifically prepared for the one zanpakutou with an area effect that could ignore his own. 

Saigo scoffed—of course—pressing another fruit on Gin. It wasn’t the first time he’d been strangely defensive about Yamamoto’s abilities even as he complained about his many faults. "A little bit of power—"

Gin had no interest in indulging Saigo right then. But he still took the fruit to lighten his voice for the proper mocking effect. "Then go kill him yerself, hm? He wouldn’t see ya coming; ya can bypass his little trick. Shouldn't be a problem for ya, should it?"

Saigo scowled, crossing his free arm across his chest as he looked away. "He’s a kidou specialist," he mumbled.

The admission of the weakness was no small thing for Saigo—the man survived by weaving a convoluted web of assumptions about his apparent weaknesses and strengths while obscuring the truth. For a moment, Gin savored the quiet show of trust—the implied acknowledgment that they were _Family_ and inherently trusting and trustworthy. Then he focused on the manipulation and set aside the temporary warmth. 

"Against Aizen, I mise well have never touched a kidou spell," Gin told him without shame. He was sure even the Kidou Corps or the Royal Guard didn’t have anyone that could beat Aizen on pure kidou alone, not with the power he could back them with. Not if Urahara couldn’t.

Saigo turned back to study him, taking the time to eat several more pieces. "His little trick?" 

A dark laugh bubbled out of Gin’s throat and he didn’t stop it. "Do ya know anything about this man ya want to kill? His shikai ability—he’s an illusionist." 

Saigo frowned, hand falling halfway to his mouth, a muscle in his brow twitching as he quietly thought that over. "Used well, illusions can be a horrible enemy..."

Gin grinned cruelly. "And not just a _common_ illusionist," he enunciated to make that twitch worse. "The effect is active as long as he wants, whenever he wants, as many times as he wants, as long as he’s in range, as long as he has reiatsu to spare—and he’s got more than his fair share of that even now, with the range to match."

Saigo considered that, hand absentmindedly finishing its journey to his mouth. "The condition?" he asked quietly. 

"Soon as the victim sees his shikai release, it’s over. All the senses—even reikakou—are under his control," Gin informed with carefree bitterness, waving his free arm in a flippant gesture.

"Even when he’s asleep?" Saigo asked, frown starting to turn calculating, fingers staying to tap at his chin instead of returning to the bag.

Gin huffed. He deserved the large handful he took from Saigo’s bag. _Finally,_ the man was beginning to think. "Especially then."

"Then it should simply be a matter of killing or incapacitating him before being..." Saigo trailed off, fingers falling away from his face. "You’ve seen it already." 

Gin shrugged one shoulder, face turned away, looking out into the night, but seeing nothing. He’d tested it—of course he had—had tried to be rid of the bastard before he ever knew Gin even existed. He should’ve been free of Kyoka Suigetsu's hypnotic effect in this life, but it was what it was. 

_*The bastard can’t hide from us, not completely—not if you just—!*_

"I haven’t seen it," Saigo said, scowl deepening, making his eyes sharper, the green even more brilliant against the dark. "I can guide your attack."

"If I only needed one shot," Gin said apathetically, eating one piece after another. 

With a jerk on his arm, Saigo grabbed his full attention once more. "If you’ve tried killing him before, you should be jumping at the chance. With me working with you—" 

"Maybe with a few decades of practice..." Unfortunately for Saigo, Gin knew a little too much about what exactly Saigo had to offer in a fight against Aizen. His hands curled as he turned inward to the cracked, depleted pool of reiryoku in his soul. How many years would it take him to regain his powers like this? Two decades? Three? How many years would it take to get to a level where Saigo was all the support he’d need? 

_*Stop playing around and wasting time and just take—!*_

"Every soul piece he feeds to the Hougyoku, the closer he gets to accessing its true power—in a few years, your practice won’t be enough anymore."

"He’s not exactly on the fast-track to completing that thing," Gin said dismissively, with a bit of dark humor. One hundred years of research and the bastard had still needed Urahara’s Hougyoku to really get anywhere. "Doesn’t understand what it can really do." 

"You wouldn’t notice the difference if he turned it on you," Saigo said, eyes flashing. 

Gin’s lips pressed into a thin line for a second— _not a child anymore—_ before his usual smile is back. "Or we could just not bother with him at all." 

_*That’s right. Forget him—we don’t need_ anyone else _to get her soul. Take—*_

Saigo shook his head, took a deep breath and another piece of fruit, offering another to Gin. "So we can’t attack him outright now. That still leaves a lot of ways for him to die."

"Why don’t ya ask someone who can actually pierce through his reiatsu? Like Shunsui," Gin said, taking the offering only to turn away again, intent on leaving the clearing. "The gap between us is a little much, don’t ya think?" Yet again _—again_ he was standing before that damned cliff.

_*We could be at the top of it if you would just-!*_

This was getting ridiculous, he thought as Saigo refused to let go and followed him into the forest. Saigo didn’t need or even want the assassination to succeed—there would be no chaos in Seireitei if they actually succeeded in simply offing the bastard. But he was like a dog with a bone, losing sight of his actual goal in his intent to make Gin think it was possible and go along with his plan. Not that it would have mattered if Saigo had been honest with his intentions from the start—it wouldn’t work the way Saigo thought it would.

"He can’t have his guard up every moment of every day, especially if he’s relying on illusions to keep him hidden and out of danger,” Saigo said, keeping pace with him with a huff of exasperation and only a flicker of a glare for his mention of Shunsui.

"No?" Gin asked darkly, before shaking his head, twisting his arm as much as he could in Saigo’s grip. Still nothing. "Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Gin said, voice turning blithe as he added a limp flick of the wrist. “His passive defense alone is too much for anything less than captains. And that’s assuming ya could get an attack past his defensive kidou." 

How many times had he gone over ways to kill the bastard that actually had a chance? Unlike Saigo, he _was_ interested in success in exactly those terms—and whether Saigo knew it or not, he needed Aizen to receive one or several killing blows as well. 

Saigo pinched the bridge of his nose, not needing sight to navigate the forest any more than Gin. "Tch. How paranoid can the man be when he can essentially become invisible at will?"

"Oh, I don’t know, maybe he’s well aware that he’s actively surrounding himself with people either set against his intentions or all-too-willing to take them over?" Gin said carelessly. "Ya thinks he’s survived undetected for so many years because he was careless? He knows his weaknesses and guards them religiously." 

"How can he possibly be sure that he’s hypnotized everyone with a condition like that?" Saigo asked, still managing to convey irritation and doubt while slightly slurring around a full mouth.

Gin took in a deep breath. _Patience,_ he reminded himself. He’d been so ecstatic to find Saigo so early, and with a blank slate to boot, that he’d forgotten about some of the man’s more irritating faults. He wanted Saigo close, didn't want to let him leave and disappear for however long like he was wont to do, but he wasn’t sure putting up with this part of him was worth it. 

_*He’s Family.*_

Gin clenched and unclenched his hands. He _was._ It would hurt to not know when he was coming back, if he would come back in the next month or the next decade. Even now, with this, he _was—_ probably—still worth keeping close. He did so much else— 

Abruptly stopping, he let out a long breath. "With the careful application of time and patience and the oh so convenient regular inter-division tournaments." 

Saigo huffed, shaking his head, muttering under his breath about stupid shinigami as he stopped a step ahead. "Alright. But wards and other defenses are bypassable and breakable. Between us-"

"Ya think ya can overcome level ninety and above Bakudou spells—my power, both our expertise—before he notices?" Gin demanded, turning on him.

"He can’t be that good," Saigo said, voice carefully quiet. 

What had even turned Saigo onto Aizen this time? He certainly hadn’t given him more than a passing glance, hadn’t cared what he did one way or another before— _in another life;_ only going with the flow at the very end. "Go ahead and check out his defenses for yerself then. When he’s in his division, when he’s asleep, when he’s out in the alley—hell, when he’s in the living world." He started backing away, pulling Saigo’s arm with him. "If ya still think it’s possible to break through them with just the two of us, I’ll think about it. Until then, I’m done with this conversation." If it was as easy as recruiting a bit of _help—!_

Saigo’s grasp loosened as he watched Gin with a calculating expression. This time when Gin pulled away, Saigo didn’t stop him, letting his hands hang limply at his sides, fruit forgotten.

“Forgetting something?” Saigo called just as Gin was almost out of casual hearing distance.

Gin didn’t even stop. “I’m delegating!”

“Rangiku doesn’t need a shadow, she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself—I’m talking about the team.”

“Ooh! Thanks for volunteering, Saigo _-sensei~!_ ” Gin tossed over his shoulder, speeding up to a run. 

“Wha-? Gin!” Saigo called but his voice faded away with distance, Saigo not chasing after him. 

Maybe the man had finally gotten the hint from the darkness starting to take over Gin’s soul and realized he was about to drive off his—whatever Gin was to him. 

_*Show him what we are and we’ll never be at a disadvantage again. He'll never be_ careless _with us again. We'll never be an_ after-thought _again.*_

He clutched at his chest, at the empty ache. Growing; it was always growing, no matter how he filled it. 

He needed _Ran_ — 

Crippling pain speared his heart and he near staggered. That wasn’t— _someone else_ —

He snarled, righting himself. If Saigo was going to be... _himself_ then he could lend him _Shunsui._ Yes, he would—that would be good. No soul-wrenching questions. No demands. Nothing to prove. Another step on a far more realistic path to what he wan—

_*Needed!*_

He let out a long exhale. That’s right, what he needed. Only a dozen districts between them; it would be enough to find something to kill on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update 1/21 - CW cont'd: Gin digs his nails into his skin as a way to ground himself. I overlooked this before, my apologies if anyone was caught off guard.
> 
> I did some last minute dialogue changes so if I accidentally messed something up there let me know. As always, let me know about any mistakes, comments, questions, critiques, etc.  
> I'd love to hear any opinions on Saigo now you've met him properly.  
> Update: 12/20 - so.... since I deleted a chapter, this is now chapter 3! And longer! After getting some frank opinions from my wonderful betas, the original ch 3, 'Earlier' is gone and a new scene between Gin and Ran was added to the original ch 4. If you read the old version, let me know what you think of the change!  
> Edit 1/21 - First, updated the Content Warning after a reread. Then cleaned up some typos and whatnot. I also realized that I didn't give 'reikakou' a proper intro since it's not the most commonly used word in fanon that I've noticed. So I fixed that. If anyone didn't pick up on it meaning 'the skill of sensing spiritual energy,' let me know and I can provide a key in the top notes or here at the bottom. Same with Kaido or any other term or name. I think I've seen other authors insert linked footnotes which I should probably look into.


	4. Careless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Minor self harm - see notes at end for more details  
> 

_Brats_ \- Gin’s thoughts  
_*Weaklings*_ \- Other Voice

* * *

\- A while later, Obscenely early - Oct. 1885 - Kyouraku Estate, Seireitei -

Dark, tainted water flowed down the drain, splashing over the sides of the tub, refusing to run clear as Gin stubbornly scrubbed at his yukata. 

_Idiot,_ he cursed himself. What had he been thinking, being so careless—Ran had bought this for him instead of the new knives she'd wanted when he'd had his sudden growth spurt. He could still hear her laughter, the teasing in her voice—

"Gin?" 

He startled, jumping up and knocking the tub over and sending dark— _bloody, it’s bloody—_ water careening across the stone bathing room floor. Right over bare feet. 

With a heavy sigh, he dispersed the energy gathering at his fingertips and collapsed back onto his stool, dropping his face into his hand. "Sorry, startled me there," he said, voice coming out light on default. "Should get this cleaned up before Mari sees it." Even with the scare he couldn’t bring himself to extend his reikakou back out. He didn’t need to be hyper-aware, not here. 

_*Careless.*_

There was silence for a moment. Then, "It’s alright—didn’t get the edges of my kimono. That would have really set her off—gods know she’s removed enough blood stains for a lifetime,” Shunsui said, coming closer to lay a hand on Gin’s shoulder. 

It was warm and welcoming, and combined with Shunsui being tactful enough to not point out Gin was never caught off guard, nearly enough to put him over the edge right there. He swiped his arm over his face, needing the shock of cold to pull himself together. 

Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to come here. 

_*Thought ya didn’t have anything to prove here, hmm?*_

"Can I light a candle?" Shunsui asked, voice and presence light, instead of gentle or concerned. "Before I stumble over something and really get some stains to upset Mari."

Gin welcomed the respite and laughed, stepping back from the edge. "How did ya even get here if yer so blind, old man?" He ducked his head, hiding his eyes under his hand as he felt the kidou build and release. "A kidou spell? Really?" 

An impressed whistle was his only answer. "Please tell me that ninety percent of this is not yours." 

"Ninety percent of this is not mine," Gin parroted obediently. 

Shunsui reached past and a quiet tap announced the placement of the candle on the ledge behind Gin. “There, that shouldn’t bother you too much.”

Gin raised his hand ever so slightly, cautiously opening his eyes just a sliver to test the light. Blood was always worse in the light, he thought distantly, as he stared down at the floor around him, streaked with crimson streams.

A clatter announced Shunsui sitting next to him on his own stool. "Not that I’m not convinced of your laundering abilities, but with that much damage…" he trailed off leadingly. Unlike most nobles, he was decent enough not to say there was no point in trying to recover something so cheap—probably wasn’t even thinking it.

Gin focused on letting his eyes adjust to the light and didn’t bother to answer. Shunsui was another perceptive bastard—and far more consistently than Saigo at that. 

"From your kid then." Shunsui sighed. "Mari’s expertise might be useful, hm?" 

There was enough amusement coming off Shunsui, threading through the other more somber emotions, to reassure Gin that Shunsui could take a hint—unlike some people. _But the wording_ —it made him twitch under the cover of his hand, when it usually amused him. She wasn’t his—he could barely do _anything_ to—

Breathing out slowly, he pushed the turmoil back, turning it into a theatrical sigh at the last moment. He let his eyes fall back into their normal squint so he could drop his shield to hold the garment up. "Ya spoiled nobles. Thought Mari had had enough? It’s just blood; soak it in cold water, scrub, and rinse. No expertise involved. It’s not like it’s silk." Its original color still wasn’t visible in large patches and he let it fall back into the tub. With only a shallow pool of red water. Right. More fresh water. He reached for the pump.

Shunsui hummed, like he knew something Gin didn’t.

Gin looked over at him, hand paused over the pump, brow creased. "What?" 

The stool clattered across the stone floor as Shunsui scooted closer. He lifted Gin’s free hand up between two fingers like it was dirty. "It might help if the launderer wasn’t adding more blood into the tub." 

Of course. Gin heaved another sigh, picking at the newly blood soaked sleeve of the borrowed yukata. "And not adding to the laundry." He raised his other arm to cool his face down again and stopped mid motion. "Is there…?" 

"Afraid so," Shunsui agreed, voice laced with amusement. 

Gin licked his lips noting the salty, coppery taste. "I didn’t—I only grabbed this one…"

That warm, large hand came down on Gin’s head, ruffling his hair. "Why don’t we make the blood stop first, then I’ll grab you a fresh kimono and see what Mari’s left in the kitchen while you wash up." 

Gin held out a moment, _I can take care of it myself,_ on the tip of his tongue, ‘ _Careless’_ at the back of his head, but Shunsui’s hand fell to rest on the back of his neck. And the man’s reiatsu started to spread out into the room, wrapping around him in a spiritual blanket. _So warm._ The words got lost and he just nodded. 

Shunsui pulled him forward to press a kiss to the top of his head with the easy affection that came so naturally to the man. "Let me at least do this much—I promise I’m better than the last time," he murmured into Gin’s hair.

Surrounded by the easy humor in Shunsui’s reiatsu, Gin could ignore the carefully concealed concern waiting to ambush him later. "So I’ll walk out with six stitches instead of seven this time?" he asked with the now traditional dubiousness. 

"As you wish," Shunsui agreed, the corner of his lips curving into a smile. His hand glowed green with healing kaidou as he set it on Gin’s shoulder for the initial assessment. He raised a brow, but his voice was neutral as he says, "Eight cuts and an acid burn. Should be able to get six stitches out of that."

"We don’t need to wake him up for this," Gin said, as he found the burn for himself. It was smaller than the palm of his hand, just above his wrist mixed in with several of those cuts. He only gave it a cursory inspection before checking the yukata for corresponding damage. 

_*Careless, just keep it up and—*_

"You know burns aren’t my specialty," Shunsui said, rolling up Gin’s sleeve to start on the cuts on his other arm.

Shunsui's hold was like steel when Gin tried to pull away to find the sleeve on the yukata and he gave Gin a raised brow and mild look.

Gin gave him a raised brow in turn, but didn’t pull on his arm again, turning back to his task one handed. "Between the two of us, I think we can handle it. Just don’t be so stingy with the reiatsu." The sleeve was thankfully undamaged—he searched for the other one just to be sure, but it was fine as well. 

"You’re not the one being stuck doing all the heavy lifting," Shunsui said dryly. "I’m surprised Saigo even let you make the trip with your levels so low, and you think you can pick up the difference?"

 _Let?_ "Well, for some reason I thought I’d have a place to rest and recover for a bit," Gin retorted easily, starting to gather himself to stand. "If I need to find someplace—"

"Brat," Shunsui said, pulling him back down with a fond, exasperated smile. Turning back to Gin’s arm, he muttered, "You wouldn’t need the extra help if you weren’t using your forearms as shields."

Normally, he would take the invitation for a playful argument on effective in-field training, take the distraction. But he couldn’t dredge up a response; he’d come thinking there were no expectations here—but there were and right now _falling_ to that level was almost as painful as failing to live up to Ran’s expectations.

Shunsui took Gin’s silence as all the answer necessary and his mood turned somber. He raised his voice to a normal level. "You know, Jyuuishiro _can_ restrain himself." 

Perhaps, but Gin’s pity and sympathy allergies were really sensitive tonight. The burn suddenly seemed like a pressing concern and he tugged his captive arm over, and Shunsui with it, so he could start healing it himself. "I can still feel it," he replied, pretending to be distracted. 

For a few moments they worked in silence.

"So, are there any hollows left in the West Alley?" 

The corner of Gin’s lip twitched higher—almost into a real smile. "Of course; I didn’t make any detours."

"Glad you’re still leaving something for the officers out there to do,” Shunsui said with a small smile of his own.

But Gin could hear the warning and the question. He let out a short laugh. “It’s fine—went through Tenth’s jurisdiction—they’d have to actually do their jobs to notice a difference, yeah?”

Shunsui sighed, his whole body sagging with it. “Their Captain will be retiring soon—hopefully,” he muttered under his breath. 

_Not for another handful of years. And another after that before they’d get a decent replacement,_ Gin corrected. He summoned a cheery smile anyway. “Until then, I’m just helping them out a bit.” 

“On top of all your other duties,” Shunsui noted wryly. “They were just getting under your skin tonight, were they?" he asked as he switched arms with Gin to swamp the burn with a reiatsu infusion letting Gin do the finer healing on the cuts. 

Suddenly Shunsui was pulling Gin’s arm away. "I just fixed that," he said mildly. 

"A-ah, sorry." _Traitors_ , Gin thought, looking down at his blood stained nails, the furrows he’d dug into his arm. "I’m gonna heal it," he said with some annoyance when Shunsui didn’t let him have his arm back. 

Shunsui just gave him a look before returning to his healing.

* _Remember why you’re here—don’t push him away. Use it, tie him-!*_

Gin licked his lips, gathering his resolve, and entwined his reiatsu with Shunsui’s so he couldn’t hide. "It wasn’t hollows." He didn’t need to specify that it wasn’t bandits or thugs or any other expected accident of the Rukongai.

The pain and frustration and anger rose up fast and strong from Shunsui, and Gin didn’t resist when Shunsui pulled him into a tight embrace. It was for Shunsui’s sake, Gin told himself. He shouldn’t need the comfort and warmth he got tucked under Shunsui’s chin— _this_ was crossing the line, more than he’d ever intended. He'd been through countless setbacks and failures and unexpected complications and never needed anything from anyone. But he didn’t move, feeling like it would be a herculean task to do so. He stayed and basked in the unfiltered emotions, the freely given compassion, the vindication. 

"Gin—" Shunsui started, but Gin made a sound of protest. 

He didn’t want to hear another insulting offer of _help, a better jurisdiction, training_ that wouldn’t actually solve the problem. Not when he wasn’t ready to track down Shunsui’s favorite stash of wine to lift before he left—wasn’t ready to leave at all.

 _I killed them. I didn’t care they were officers, that they were nobles—I tortured ‘em first and I_ relished _every moment._ The words were crowding in his throat, building in his chest, ready to spill out and make Shunsui throw him back and draw his sword. End this—this farce of helplessness.

_*Don’t you da—!*_

Instead Gin clutched at the silk kimono surrounding him, watching the blood seep into it. "I’m getting blood on yer kimono," he murmured into Shunsui’s chest. 

"I can take another lecture from Mari," Shunsui promised him after a moment. "I’ll buy her more jade."

"Ya know she just sells it whenever ya give her any, right?" 

Shunsui sighed. "Must you?"

"I don’t know what ya mean," Gin told him with all innocence, but subsided. For just a moment he could forget about the tightrope he was walking, pretending that the ideals and charitable nature were his own. That he was just a prodigy, still with more potential than skill or training, and with a desire to help his fellow Rukongans—that he was nothing more than that, nothing _worse than that_. 

That a single misstep wouldn’t make Shunsui and Jyuuishiro renounce him.

_*We won’t let them—!*_

_That’s not how it works,_ Gin countered bitterly, burrowing closer, trying to push away the image of Ran’s betrayed eyes. _What would be the point?_ He clenched tighter at the pang of loss he felt all too late and for all the loss to come, sagging as Shunsui only wrapped more warm reiatsu around him. 

Soaking up the patience and understanding, he hoarded the feelings deep in his soul for when he inevitably lost this. 

* * *

_“Ya know it's obvious yer up to something when ya start avoiding me.”_

_Gin didn't answer, curled up around his knees, digging his toes into the cold sand beneath him. Why did it keep betraying him when he most wanted to hide?_

_“Suppose yer avoiding Rangiku, too.”_

_“She doesn't want to see me.”_

_“Bullshit. Like hell she doesn't want to see ya. If yer not talking it's cuz ya can't deal with her being pissed as hell at ya for what ya've done 'for her.' The way she looks at ya."_

_Gin curled tighter up on himself. He knew, of course he knew-but what did it matter if his hands were blood stained, if his soul was damned—_

_A hand slammed against the stone behind him and he flinched away from the new voice suddenly in his ear._

_“She_ cares _ya bloody idiot—! Yer Family, ain't ya? Ya might as well have damned her with you—!”_

Gin jolted up, half on his feet before he recognized the tatami mats, the paintings on the sliding doors. Sinking back down to the futon he ran a hand over his face, the other clutched at his chest. He hadn't—she wasn't—she wasn't damned and she didn't look at him the same way—like _that_.

_*Not yet.*_

_Not_ ever, Gin swore.

_*How long do ya think it’ll be if ya keep on like this? Ya think riding the fence will get ya anywhere? You don’t get both! Choose ya indecisive little—!*_

Shunsui stirred a few rooms over and Gin turned in his direction with a lurch _—_

_*Gonna turn to Shunsui to fix all your problems? Need another hug? It’s just ‘acting,’ right?*_

He wasn’t _—_ he didn’t— 

Gin snarled and jumped to his feet, leaving any attempt at sleep behind.

The rest of the morning was awkward as hell. He struggled through breakfast with Shunsui and his pestering, almost managed to break away when Lisa stormed in. Yet still he somehow ended up agreeing to stay in the city to visit Jyuuishiro—he was half planning to ditch at the first sign of mother henning. 

But there was a hush over the Ukitake Estate when he arrived, immediately sobering him as he snuck inside. Jyuuishiro was sleeping fitfully, restless with raspy breathing. 

There was only a moment of indecision, before he slipped into the room and settled at Jyuuishiro’s side. Helping Jyuuishiro with a bit of kaidou was the exact opposite of what Shunsui had intended when he sent Gin over. But with Jyuuishiro falling into a deeper sleep as Gin eased the pain and tension, he could use his reiatsu freely, no pretending. 

_*What pretending? Ya’ve barely recovered at all—*_

It was a good time to sit down and plan out his next move anyway.

Setting a standing watch around Ran so she never witnessed another incident wouldn’t be the end of the issue; Saigo would be on him for any little thing he let slip through.

If he was going to handle this his way, he couldn’t half-ass things any longer. So he wrestled with the emptiness in his soul, digging through it to find the scattered, flitting memories of names, faces, distinct reiatsu signatures—even casual references—of the unimportant peons that infested the rank and file.

If he had to check every last officer that entered his territory himself, this wouldn't happen again.

A couple hours later he left, slipping out as quietly as he came before Jyuuishiro ever woke up. With a meal stolen from the kitchen in hand, he called his promise to Shunsui fulfilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW cont'd - More like last chapter - Gin digs his fingernails into his arm hard enough to draw blood.
> 
> Thanks for all comments and kudos! I'd love to chat and answer questions either here or on my tumblr: http://jaquesofdragons.tumblr.com/ I've also posted several headcanons there.  
> I did not get this chapter proofread so if you see anything please let me know.  
> What do you guys think of Shunsui's first appearance?  
> Update: 12/20 - This is technically half-betaread. The structural change - scrapping the second half, has been done. But line editing hasn't happened yet. Because doing things out of order is the best way to do things, I'm posting this change first. Let me know what you think! It's a little... shorter now.  
> Edit - 1/21 - still hasn't had line editing, but I've personally caught some more errors and typos and words left out of sentences because they didn't get transferred from comments. The bit after the nightmare scene no longer implies Shunsui and Gin were sleeping in the wrong room for example lol. There are very few people Gin can fall asleep in the presence of and Shunsui is far too dangerous to be one of them. Woops ^^;  
> Anyway, this chapter is next in line to get beta'd after 5. Because 5 is worse lol. After that, things might actually get done in order.


	5. Massacre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Title's kind of self explanatory on this one: death. No Gore beyond brief references to blood spatter and the like.  
> Same self-harm as in previous chapters.

_Brats_ \- Gin’s thoughts  
_*Weaklings*_ \- Other Voice

* * *

— Sometime, April 1886 — Mid-districts, West Rukongai —

The hollows were weak, unorganized, and outnumbered, but still they fought instead of ran. The shinigami team was irritated—unable to land clean finishing blows, they were stuck whittling down their opponents health. Yet, they were professional enough, not letting the irritation make them sloppy. Delay or not, it was clear the hollows didn’t have a chance.

So why weren’t the hollows running? 

“We most humbly offer our sincerest gratitude, Gin-dono!”

Concentration broken, Gin turned back to the little crowd that had gathered while he was distracted with an easy grin. “Oi, oi, I told ya, didn’t I? It’s not me ya got to thank, but our most charitable noble benefactors.”

The crowd, in unusually good spirits for a small village in the mid-districts, burst into laughter, cheering and jeering their ‘benefactors.’ With the new alliances ahead and the opportunity to connect to a functioning trade network, not even the souls lost, the remaining scars and damaged land and buildings, the amount of difficulties that still remained ahead, were enough to keep them somber. 

“I‘m not any lord; none of this ‘dono’ business, got it?” Gin said to those that were still listening and able to hear him over the racket. “You lot keep yer part of the deal and we’re business partners, yeah?”

Of course, they heartily promised that they would never forfeit—Gin smiled at them, more than willing to remind them why he was used to souls keeping their word to him past the initial excitement. With these people though, he wasn’t too concerned about them needing extra incentive or minding. They were too desperate, had too much to gain by taking the deal with no better offers. 

Ran would probably say they were too honest and genuine. That didn’t mean much out here, but when they asked him to stay for a meal as a token of their gratitude, he found himself agreeing instead of moving on. It was possible they really did mean it and wouldn’t begrudge him taking them up on the offer.

With one last check to the disturbance out past the far edges of the village and the sun’s position in the sky, Gin followed after his impromptu hosts. 

_*Just got all the time in the world on yer hands, do ya?*_

The meal was nothing extravagant, but it came quick and hot, served at the local bar—one of the few buildings already fully repaired. A scarred woman manned the bar and she belligerently informed him that the cooks had put special effort into the food just for him, so he'd better properly appreciate it. 

For that alone, Gin was more than pleased he’d decided to stay. Across the room, bowls were filled with the exact same thing, only in smaller portions, and he had no doubt the woman knew he was aware. So he dutifully clapped his hands together and said an appropriately extravagant thanks. He was, after all, more than grateful for the colorful company. And he continued on until the barkeep made a swipe at him with a snarl and humor sparking in her eyes. 

Just as he was about to take his first bite though, preparing another appropriate reaction to get a rise out of her—Hana, she told him, daring him to mock—his attention was snagged by the fight once more. It was still going on, still in the shinigami’s favor—even with another hollow joining the fight, which was what had caught his attention.

For a few moments he gave his reikakou his whole focus, tracking the progress of the fight, scanning for any more souls that could join in and further complicate the skirmish. But the area was clear, already tired from previous fights and it seemed the patrol team had things in hand, raising the intensity of their efforts to match the added difficulty. 

* _Just kill them all, who cares who’s winning?*_

He turned back to his food and Hana, satisfied he didn't need to interfere. The officers were already lucky he’d taken care of the much higher level hollow presence they had no doubt been sent to deal with—far too late to actually catch them still in the area, of course. 

It took him a moment to realize the previously boisterous crowd and the delightfully cranky Hana had fallen silent and tense. Hands were clutching weapons, food and drink forgotten, all ready to spring to action the moment he said the word. 

He smiled wider around that aborted first bite and told Hana that the extra seasoning wasn't enough to cover the quality of the meat. Laughing as she lunged for him again, he protested that she should at least put down the machete as the rest of the bar settled back down. 

Not long later, he paused again, mid-banter, as a garganta opened near the fight and more hollows joined in. As the shinigami were pushed back for the first time, he reluctantly rose to his feet in anticipation of them dying, asking for the food to go. It would be a nuisance if he let the hollows split up to chase scattered prey. “Suppose it wouldn’t look good if I let some poor soul die under my nose right after our deal, would it?” 

“Damn straight, it wouldn’t!” Hana declared, swiftly packing the rest of his meal up in the renewed silence and tension. 

He barely noticed the attention on him, tracking killing blows and fading reiatsu flames. With his usual carefree smile, he absently took the boxed lunch but then stopped, mid-movement, as first one hollow opened a garganta, then another, then suddenly the others were following in their wake. Disappearing. 

“Ah.” Turning a cheerful smile on Hana, he dropped the bentou back on the counter. "It seems like I wasn’t needed after all." Seeing her consternated expression he dropped several coins on the bar. "Another serving?" 

Scowling even as the tension fell from her shoulders, she leaned back over to the kitchen. “Another bowl of scraps for our new ‘ _paying’_ friend!” 

“That’s all I’ve got left on me,” Gin told her with a pout, before turning to lean back against the bar and address the rest of the room. They watched him with dark eyes and a heady dose of killing intent. He shrugged it off, mocking smile firmly in place. "What do you want me to do? The hollows went home." 

A ripple of fear and panic ripped through the room, drinks and food clattering as half the people bolted to their feet. 

"Relax, relax. They got a shinigami team, not any of you lot," Gin told them with mild amusement. But the whole thing wouldn’t leave his mind. For that many hollows, especially ones fresh from Hueco Mundo, the team shouldn't have been enough to satisfy them. They had to have been after something else. 

While the bar patrons sagged in relief and scowled at him and muttered about going to check if there was anything left to loot, a new tray of food sliding up to his elbow turned Gin’s attention back to Hana. 

“You didn’t expect the hollows to leave,” Hana noted, pouring out a cup of sake. 

Gin smirked at the blatant bribe for information as he took his seat again. “I’m afraid I’ve been a bit spoiled when it comes to sake, Hana-san. Do ya think ya have something good enough to tempt me?” She tsk’d, brow furrowing, but Gin leaned forward on his elbows with a wide smirk. “There’s something else ya could do for me instead~,” he said, drawing it out with relish until the vein at her temple pulsed and her teeth were grinding in rage as she reached for her machete.

A half hour later, Gin left the village with a cheerful whistle, desire to mess with people as satisfied as his hunger. He was looking forward to coming back, sure Hana would decide she was interested in being more than a barkeep, injured leg aside. With fighting experience and a decent bit of potential, he had a dozen better options to offer. 

* _Ran would have liked her—*_

Ran _would_ like her, Gin corrected, looking forward to it. It wouldn’t take the village more than a month or so he wagered. 

He twitched as _something_ caught his attention on the very edge of his senses. Ice flooded through his veins and his thoughts immediately flew to Ran. The ‘something’ grew larger within seconds, but Gin was already sprinting at his highest speed, ready to go even _faster_. 

_Aizen_ was in West.

He didn’t need to think to weave his strongest mask around his reiatsu, pulling it tight till he would barely register as a plus to someone standing right next to him. Summoning the kidou spell, Kyokkou, for invisibility came just as easily, as he calculated and tossed plan after plan. To get to Ran first he’d have to— 

_*Go faster, faster!*_

Fresh energy propelled him ahead but not _enough._

A wave of _miasma_ overtook Gin, feeling like an almost physical blow. But there wasn’t time to react to feeling the hated presence again after so long except to draw on _more_. Over a century of feeling it and still he had only a vague, wispy sense of Kyoka Suigetsui’s effect. It was like an endless fog bank, there or not, perspective lost from within, barely improved from without. 

And the bastard could be _anywhere_ inside. Could be overtaking Gin without the slightest sign. 

_*More! If he gets to Ran first, ya slug, I’ll—*_

Where the hell was the bastard going? More and more cold flooded his veins as he pushed blindly onward. Until he broke clear without warning and left the sensation behind. 

Quiet triumph, that he’d been able to outpace the bastard, was quickly thrown out as ridiculous. He slowed and turned back with full caution, ready to bolt once more. 

But it didn’t overtake him. 

A few quick steps took him back to the edge, confirming it was still there, and he hovered, wondering. It was a risk to be so close to falling under the effect. But he had to _know_.

 _He’s not supposed to be here!_ His fingers ached to crawl up his arms, but he kept them loose at his sides, ready, whole being focused on expanding and enhancing his reikakou to the limits, soaking up every last detail for the tiniest hint.

The bastard had already been in West this month, been in North and East as well on clandestine trips, on top of his actual official work in South. _He shouldn’t have had time—!_

A garganta opened a way off—almost where he’d started—and Gin froze, unable to move a muscle. The village. Hana. 

It was the start of a play Gin had seen countless times. He didn’t need to _feel_ it, to know the garganta and all the hollows pouring out of it were nothing but an illusion.

When the first flame of a soul stuttered before disappearing altogether, the spell was broken with a rush of hatred and _memories._ Gin stumbled back, clutching at his head and chest until he backed into a tree and collapsed at its base.

Seconds seemed like hours but the storm of emotions passed as suddenly as they had come, leaving him alone under the oppressive weight of the bastard’s presence. 

He tried to focus on Ran’s lack of danger, but his whole soul was perfectly silent and still and cold as he felt the flares of panicked reiatsu from the villagers, the attempts to scatter and run, the snuffing of each flame, one by one. Out of habit, he’d memorized each reiatsu—each face came to mind as their souls disappeared. 

Terrible knowledge seeped to the forefront of his mind and he curled in on himself. If Aizen was killing them one at a time...they weren’t just dying. They were torn apart. The manic, feverish spikes of reiatsu were covered by the illusion, the drawn out agony ended on Kyoka’s blade. Permanently. 

Gin’s fingers found their way into his sleeves, digging into his forearms as he felt Hana’s flame disappear. If he’d known—

There was an endless list of things he would’ve done differently in hindsight, he told himself, grounding himself in the pain. There was no point dwelling on it.- 

_Where’s your bloodlust now?_ Gin demanded, but his soul remained silent. 

As the miasma and the bastard it hid finally faded away, safely headed back to Seireitei, Gin collapsed over his bent legs, letting his hands dangle as he buried his face into his knees. 

“Shit.” 

* * *

The village was eerily silent as he walked up the main and only street—for some reason, he’d thought he’d never walk through such a scene as this again. 

More collapsed buildings than before, spatters and pools of blood everywhere. Not a single corpse. The bastard had meticulously destroyed the clothing already. Not even ordinary, powerless plus bodies disappeared that fast, but Gin was expecting that. Had made it happen himself countless times. A few drag marks here and there painted the perfect picture of a hollow attack for the ignorant: obviously the corpses had been eaten or dragged back to Hueco Mundo. 

The bar was half collapsed, but it was only a moment’s effort to lift and throw the roof to the side. He walked past Hana’s machete and the accompanying streaks of blood, hopped over the bar. The letter he’d left with Hana was still stuck to the counter with one of his knives, same as he’d last seen it, now soaking in a pool of spilled sake. 

He pocketed the knife and burned the letter without hesitation. Only to find himself coming to a stop next to Hana’s machete on the way out. He rubbed his thumb over the engraving on the hilt of the wakizashi he carried: _Kishi_. It wasn’t the same, not at all. But he found himself bending to scoop up Hana’s machete anyway, sliding it into his obi next to Kishi.

There was no way to get their soul pieces back. No way to know if their souls had been torn out of the reincarnation cycle or if they were lucky enough to escape such a finite fate. No way to get vengeance for them. No way except through Aizen. His hand clenched around Hana’s machete. 

They weren’t his to avenge. They were outside his territory. Weren’t his responsibility. 

_*They were going to be.*_

Leather and wood creaked and he forcibly let go of the handle before he shattered it. They _weren’t_ part of his territory, but it was _close._ He needed to know what had brought the bastard out this far, if it would bring him _back_ , or worse, even farther out. There was nothing in the village for Aizen and the insistent urge drove him out to the origin of the illusion before he was done in the village. 

The fake garganta had appeared right above the site of the fight he hadn’t needed to interfere in. But there was nothing here he didn’t already know from watching from afar: more hollows than usual, attracted to a losing fight until their numbers were enough to overpower the shinigami team. 

He noted the torn up, blood stained ground towards the middle of the remnants of chaos—the shinigami that had borne the brunt of the attacks, the leader. 

The leader of only half a team. 

Slipping out of sight into the branches of a nearby tree, he patiently waited for the rest of the team to arrive. He thought about killing them, knowing they had purposefully slowed when they’d felt the attack on the village. But he just listened as they cursed and grieved and blamed their foolish comrades for going off on their own for a bit of money.

Of course. Gin didn’t need to hear any more. 

Aizen’s minions. That’s why the bastard had come. Or more accurately, for the copy of the orb they’d held. 

Gin leaned back against the trunk of the tree, ignoring the panicked officers trying to make up a cover story below. Collecting souls was tedious work that the bastard had outsourced at all opportunities—even Aizen could only speed up the process to a small degree. So he hadn’t retrieved the copy-orb. Some hollow was carrying it around in their stomach and the bastard had made up for the loss on the nearest convenient source. 

_*Something’s changed.*_

Had they killed too many of the bastard’s peons? He’d been so careful— 

He let out a long, slow breath. Damage control. He needed to finish up. There were other villages nearby, he could arrange a new agreement. No need for Ran to know...

Senses on high alert, his focus immediately snapped to the village at a slight whisper of movement. _Was that—?_

He sat up, licking dry lips. There was only one way he could have missed a soul. With one glance at the useless officers almost wrapping up, he darted back to the village. 

The smoldering little flames of reiatsu he sensed were growing in fits and starts on the far side of the village and led him to the village’s small, ancient shrine. He came to a stop with a bit of noise to announce himself, extending his Kyokkou spell to hide the activity. Grown over with foliage and stone falling over, the shrine looked like it had been long abandoned—as intended.

The tiny flames disappeared as he approached and he made a note they needed a lesson on when it was too late to hide and better to run. He lifted away the reiatsu dampening sekki-sekki stone behind the shrine to reveal two tiny kids, huddled together in the cramped hide-away space. It really was— _had been_ — a genuine village, hiding two hungry and burdensome kids away instead of saving themselves.

Some of the terror left the kids’ eyes as they recognized him, but they didn’t make any move to come out. “We were good like Onee-san said. We were good.” 

It sounded like more of a mantra than anything they were telling Gin.

Wordlessly, he pulled out a couple of the pieces of dried persimmon he’d been saving and offered them. He had no other comfort to give.

Scratching his cheek, Gin wrestled with himself as he watched the evidence nibble on his persimmons. Sobs visibly started to wrack them, tears streaming down their faces. Yet, they didn’t make a sound—just one rule of survival in the Rukongai they’d already learned. 

Dropping them off in a random nearby village was no guarantee Ran wouldn’t one day stumble upon them. Or that they wouldn’t tell anyone who asked that Gin had been here—that he should’ve been able to prevent this tragedy for all his infamy in the area. 

But he didn’t stop them or leave them behind when they scrambled to climb out and follow on his heels. Or when they clutched at his yukata and bumped into his legs as they walked over and past the bloodstains and remains of their home. 

He’d have to be fast to collect everything he’d given the town before the team came to investigate and he considered leaving the kids once more. The team might take them back as candidates for the academy, an excuse for separating the team. 

A tug on his yukata got his attention, and he looked down to find the kids pointing at a half-collapsed building with questioning eyes, even as they wiped away their tears. 

“Ah.” Gin couldn’t help but smile at the little thieves in the making. “Knock yerselves out.” 

Minutes later, he felt the team approaching but it was the little bratlings that ran up to him first with terrified eyes, pointing behind them. “There’s more—!”

“Shi-shinigami!” the second one confirmed, hitching their little sack higher on their shoulder. 

“That’s..." ‘ _not a reason to run_ ,’ he should have said. He huffed and slung his own sack over his shoulder. “That’s our cue to leave, then,” he finally settled on, letting them latch around his neck and side. 

Having to explain that not all shinigami ruthlessly massacred Rukongans _and_ deal with little bratlings would definitely distract Ran for a little while. 

That would have to be enough. 

_*How could it be?*_

* * *

Ran welcomed the kids with open arms, but looked overwhelmed and out of her depth. “Alright, alright, you’re safe now. I know someone—”

Knowing where she was going, Gin cut his hand across his throat, careful the kids couldn’t see. Good as any of _her_ teams might be with kids, the last thing the bratlings needed right now was to see another black uniform. 

Ran’s brow twitched, even as understanding softened her eyes. A hand on eachs’ shoulder, she knelt down to their level. “Your family was killed by shinigami?” she asked gently.

It was a reasonable enough assumption, but the kids broke down nonetheless. “Onee-san! Our village—! Everyone—!”

Gin just held up his hands in response to Ran’s glare over the bawling messes snotting up her yukata. His comfort tools were offers of violence, persimmons, macabre humor, and sake. Three of which either he now knew better than to offer to bawling bratlings or was out of reach. And they’d already eaten all his persimmons. 

Rolling her eyes, Ran braced herself to spend the next while calming the kids down enough that she could explain that not all shinigami were monsters.

They weren’t having it, but they had calmed down enough that Gin could finally intervene before Ran admitted she agreed. He stepped forward and put a hand on each of their heads. “What would ya think if ya saw yer onee-san wearing the black uniform, hmm? Or me or Ran-nee-san here? Anyone with the hunger and some training can become a shinigami.”

“A uniform and a special weapon can't change who we are,” Ran said with a hint of relief and a grateful smile.

 _Didn't it?_ Gin cynically thought, but he pushed that aside to keep that smile on Ran’s face. He turned to leave, satisfied that Ran wouldn’t be pissed about him abandoning her without backup to drop the kids on, on top of everything else. 

“Ah—Gin!” Ran said, making him pause, heart racing. “Saigo’s been looking for ya.” 

Ah. Not interested. He gave her an unconcerned smile. “No need to worry about him, Ran—he can always find me if he needs to.” He turned away with a wave. “I’ll be back for breakfast tomorrow, don’t wait up!”

“But—! Gin!”

He studiously ignored it as Ran’s fingers just missed catching his sleeve. She didn't really want to see him. He didn’t want to make her pretend that she wasn't disappointed _again_ when she heard the whole story from the kids. Not after the half-year he’d spent making up for his last mistake.

Not when he didn’t have an easy solution on the tip of his tongue this time.

He couldn’t bear to see it in her eyes, the resignation to the fact that he really was _useless_.

* * *

In the wake of that mess, Gin ramped up his _extra_ activities even more, turned them to investigation. It was no longer _enough_ to know that Aizen was going out to the Rukongai regularly. Wasn’t enough to _be careful_ with the pawns. 

Out of nowhere the bastard had started to care about attrition. A dozen or more orbs lost a year, averaged between the Alleys, was once just the accepted consequences of using minions with more greed than skill or sense. 

It didn’t _make sense_. And Aizen always made sense, if you only could see what he did.

So he watched, put in the effort to track more and more pawns down, even dared to track Aizen himself down a couple of times, digging for more clues. He dared not kill any more pawns, but he focused even more on herding them out of his territory, away from his people—and eavesdropping. 

There was only one thing of use to be heard: they were required to report in regularly. 

That was new. He hoped the micromanaging was driving Aizen crazy. 

A chance encounter a month later nailed home the severity of the problem.

A minion he knew from the other life, a real piece of work he’d have been more than happy to kill a second time, was on patrol when Gin found him. No longer free to permanently get rid of him, Gin had idly been considering alternatives to make his life hell while he waited for another team to come in range. Push them together, get him and his new minion friends stuck on official work for the rest of this excursion, and he’d move on, job accomplished. 

The hollows that happened to pour out right on top of the scum and his team made Gin’s job a little more complicated. The amusement factor of watching the man make a fool of himself as he ran from the weakest of hollows and used his teammates to buy himself time had convinced Gin to spare him a few more months in another life. But here—would his death draw Aizen out again? 

He debated only a few moments before shrugging. The man had only lived a few more years on pure luck and was less than useless. Considering Aizen didn’t hire him or his teammates personally, they might not even have an orb with them, just learning how to function together. 

So he sat back and relaxed, ready for a little break and entertainment. 

_Until Aizen himself showed up_. Illusion-self in the guise of some random officer or not, he was here. Despite the duties out in South that should have _kept him busy._ They must have been taken over by one of his more useful minions and Gin moved them up on his list of pests to be rid of.

Slipping his hands up his sleeves, Gin didn’t bother moving as he felt the bastard approach. He didn’t care about anyone here. Thinking this time he might get some answers, he poured all his focus into his reikakou, looking for the infinitesimal inconsistencies between the illusory-attacks of ‘Random Officer Savior’ and the actual thing. 

The killing blows came from ground level, rather than from above like the arrogant sod preferred. Or not killing blows as the case seemed to be for some of the hollows. 

An interrogation then.

_*What the bloody hell does he think a random hollow can tell him?*_

Gin pressed a hand against the pressure in his eyes, uncaring of the blood he got on his face. Options for finding out were limited. Knowing the illusion was there did _absolutely nothing_ to let him actually see or hear through it. 

Something _else_ was going wrong, _not_ him. Something he couldn’t predict, couldn’t manipulate. 

* _Ya need to do_ more _—!*_

He _did_ more and more, but it was never enough, not even with more than a bit _extra_. The bastard seemed to be _everywhere_ and his minions were far more of a threat when Gin couldn’t kill them off at his leisure. 

He kept doing more until he was doing little else, all extraneous activities discarded in favor of his efforts. Foisting work with Ran off on someone else was an easy choice when he couldn’t bear to look her in the eye. 

Close to his breaking point, he was almost ready to start stalking Tousen. Nevermind that he’d have to wait until Tousen skipped his normal duties to go on a mission for Aizen; that he’d have to guess which Alley the bastard sent him to under the cover of his illusions; that there was no guarantee Tousen would _leave_ the cover of those same illusions. Nevermind how long that would leave his territory _unguarded,_ his other work neglected. 

No, he wasn’t quite at that point. 

But with the stress building, he found himself spending...a little extra time with the hollows he came across. Just a little break, a chance to blow off some steam every now and then was all he needed.

Some were more entertaining than others.

This salamander-like hollow, the leader of the latest hollow group he’d tracked down on his territory, grinned back at him a few trees ahead, before taking off in another direction, bouncing between the trees. For a single moment she’d been properly terrified when Gin had landed in their midst, but she hadn’t rolled over or fled. She’d _laughed_ and taken off with a flare of challenge, reveling in the chase. 

Gin’s grin was just as manic as hers as he gave chase.

The rest of the souls following in their wake were either surprisingly loyal for such low level hollows or too stupid to know they didn’t stand a chance. They took swipes and shots at him, trying to take advantage of his distraction with their leader-bait. They were keeping up well enough, adding another dimension the chase and clash with the salamander alone wouldn’t have. 

Hyper-aware of how little time he had left to play, he’d been counting down the minutes when he’d sensed it. 

He had his spiritual eye over the whole moving battlefield and a half dozen other hollows that he’d have to get to that night besides. So even a _void_ caught his attention when it intruded on his little game. There was nothing else to call it— _something_ interrupted the direction of a projectile, but his reikakou told him there was nothing around for kilometres that hadn’t been scared off by the skirmish.

The corners of his smile fell ever so slightly and he slowed down before coming to a stop in a random patch of forest. 

Salamander came racing back towards him as her groupies rushed straight into a full engagement they weren’t prepared for. 

For a few seconds, Gin lost track of the _nothing_ , letting Salamander drag him back into their dance without going too far from his chosen spot. He ducked to the side, blocking instead of evading one of Salamander’s tail swipes, and a bony spine drilled right through the tree behind him. 

It had a hundred times more will and intent in it than any of the other spines he’d deflected that night. 

"That coulda hurt me, ya know," Gin said, ignoring Salamander’s confusion—he wasn’t talking to her or any of her friends. 

"If that’s what it takes,” the intruder replied.

Of course. The moment he got a bit of a break...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so Aizen makes his first appearance. Tell me what you think of it and Gin's reaction!  
> Also, if you skipped directly to this chapter - I have now officially updated the prologue and it's not just edited, but also includes new content! Check it out and let me know what you think!  
> This chapter however has not been betaread at all. I hesitated for a while to post this before I received feedback, but I decided to stick my one month deadline. 
> 
> As always, all feedback and critiques are welcome!


	6. Instincts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally posting a new chapter and updating the old ones again. Read the notes at the end for more info on changes.  
> A small, but relevant change for this chapter is referencing the Hougyoku. I'm using 'orbs' and 'copy-orbs' interchangeably to refer to the devices the minions carry around to collect souls to bring back to merge with the Hougyoku. And "Orb," 'Hougyoku,' and 'the Orb,' to refer to the actual Hougyoku.
> 
> CW: brief mention of minor self-harm (same as previous chapters)

_Brats_ \- Gin’s thoughts  
_*Weaklings*_ \- Other Voice

* * *

\- Same Night, Sometime in May, 1886 - West Alley Rukongai -

"Now will you listen to me?" Saigo asked, deflecting another spine with a bat of his hand.

"It gonna be the same old story?" Gin asked, spinning around to slice the spine in half before it hit Salamander. He let the flare of _my prey_ color his reiatsu with irritation and possessiveness. 

After two successful months avoiding him altogether, he'd hoped Saigo had gotten the hint. 

Behind Gin, Salamander faltered at the move and wisely didn't try to take advantage. 

But the other hollows hadn’t quite caught on to the new player, pressing their attack with hollers and taunts, even as Gin effortlessly batted them back.

Saigo sent another missile through the chaos and Gin snatched it out of the air. The moment it hit his hand, he realized it wasn’t another spine and his defense and irritation faltered. 

But it didn’t matter. The forest fell eerily quiet as all the hollows came to a halt as well, their eyes glued on the dimly glowing orb of light—of souls—in Gin’s hand. Recognizing it as well as he did, Gin noted with a sinking feeling. 

And it wasn’t just an average copy-orb either, but one filled by dozens—no, hundreds—of soul pieces. Chills ran through his soul as he felt the barest stirrings of _threat_ in it, but it was thankfully dormant. Unaware and incapable of reaching into the soul of whoever touched it. 

"This changes everything," Saigo said, the hollows parting as he approached. 

While Gin was struggling to choose how to react, Saigo gave a single command to the hollows surrounding them: "Leave."

The odd calm turned heavy and thick with tension, the group not taking their eyes off the orb. Unsubtle shifting and murmuring started to rise. It culminated in three brash hollows dashing towards Gin, hands outstretched for the orb.

With a strangled cry, Salamander jumped after the fools, throwing them back through a hastily summoned garganta the moment she got her hands on them. She got the two closest to her, but could only cry out to the third who was about to run straight past Saigo.

Letting out an annoyed 'tsk', Saigo caught the hollow by the mask with a single hand, stopping her momentum as if she'd hit a sekki-sekki wall. 

Boneless after the collision, she dangled from his grip, whimpering and stuttering out apologies.

“Please spare her, my lord, she’s just a kid!” Salamander cried out, pressing her head to the ground. “I take full responsibility for her ignorance.”

“Hmmm. You’re lucky to have such a loyal leader,” Saigo told his captive and released his hand, letting her fall and scramble away. 

Clutching the kid close, Salamander bowed again, praising his mercifulness, voice turning hoarse, but didn’t press her luck. She turned a glare on the rest of her frozen people. “What are you waiting for? Leave!” 

Before following her cowed people through, she bowed once more to Saigo—but couldn't stop herself from giving the orb one last longing look.

Then Gin and Saigo were alone.

"Careful being all badass, Saigo-chan,” Gin said into the silence, voice light as he walked over to Saigo, flicking the remaining blood from Kishi. “Someone might mistake ya for being cured and yer reputation will be ruined.” 

Saigo huffed, making a sweeping gesture at himself. “As if anyone would mistake _this_ for being cured.” 

Gin gave him a meaningless smile, thinking. Hearing Saigo out and poking holes in all his plans hadn't deterred him before, while outright avoidance had given Gin some respite—it was very tempting to try and continue the trend. 

“I don’t remember the bastard handing any copy-orbs like this out."

"For good sense or out of ignorance, I’m not yet sure," Saigo agreed with a little smirk, completely confident in direct contrast to their other encounters over the last half a year. "No, I gathered a few of the ones his pawns are carrying around and made this myself." 

The emptiness in Gin's chest returned with a vengeance, threatening to take over. With slow, deliberate motions he turned away from Saigo to set the orb down on a newly created stump. Raised Kishi to check its edge for nonexistent chips and nicks, and spoke in a carefully distracted voice, "That wasn’t made from just a handful of ‘em." 

Saigo walked around the stump to face him with a confused look. “No...it wasn’t. A couple dozen if you want to know." 

Gin stilled for a moment before deliberately setting back into motion, mechanically starting to assess old injuries as his mind raced through the implications. The hollows Aizen was hunting down—they weren't 'accidentally' swallowing the orbs and taking them home. He hadn't even considered them because _it had never been a problem before_.

Before Saigo had decided to get involved. All those souls destroyed—Hana and her village and so many more—for _what?_

And how hadn’t he noticed? If he hadn’t been so arrogant—

His minor injuries definitely needed attention right that moment. "Would have had to have stolen from or killed just as many teams in just the last several months to collect that many. Know ya didn’t have that many before." 

Saigo crossed his arms, looking bemused now. "I’m clear minded enough right now not to send minions back reporting someone’s stealing the copy-orbs, thank you. Of course they were killed. I wasn’t aware anybody important would care."

"Are ya really thinking all that clearly, Saigo-chan?” Gin asked, turning away from his busy work, his usual smile turning sharp before he could stop it. "I think ya might’ve spent too long vacationing wherever ya go. Of course no one cares about the minions. But yer costing the bastard something far more precious, ain’t ya? How many times do ya think he’s come round to West this month alone, hm?" When his memories said he _shouldn’t_ have been. 

"A small price to pay for what we’ve gained," Saigo said, hand flicking away Gin’s concerns, his full confidence coming back. 

Worth more than the kind of foresight he had? _Had_ had? Unlikely.

 _*The lazy ass is getting_ proactive— _can’t take our eyes off him—we’ve gotta—*_

What was done was done. Already his mind had switched to the future and how he could use this information to fix...whatever was left to fix.

But he still needed more answers. Hollows shouldn't have been able to find the orbs when the bastard was actively taking pains to hide them. They were already hard to detect in the first place, even more so when dormant. "I don’t recall hollows being so familiar with the orbs." 

"I held a little...demonstration in Hueco Mundo on hollow instincts," Saigo told him—as if that explained _anything_. "They’re ‘spreading the word’ for me, if you know what I mean.” He smiled, all smug and cocky, holding out his hands. “Once they’re back in Hueco Mundo, it’s an easy matter to collect them."

Gin allowed himself a moment to let out a long breath and think of the retribution he’d rain down on Saigo later. 

All that was left was what the bastard was doing _in West_ to investigate the change. 

“This is supposed to change things for the better, is it? Making him more paranoid and bringing him closer?" His voice came out cold and he couldn’t bring himself to care.

"Oh, that will not be a concern for long; he won’t see this coming," Saigo said, lips curling up in malicious promise. "We are going to take him down from the inside."

Gin stared down at the copy-orb lying where he left it, unease coiling in his stomach, only adding to the bubbling turmoil waiting to boil over. "Still not seeing past the bad," he said, hoping he was wrong.

Saigo smirked as he picked up the orb. "Considering I’d sensed the Hougyoku has grown strong enough to develop its own sentience and personality, I guessed it could also hold consciousness within a large enough piece outside of the original. And I was right." 

"And?" 

"And?" Saigo asked, incredulous. "Given enough outside help, it can bridge the gap between us and the worm, and eliminate some of our largest concerns. Someone on the inside just as committed to taking the worm down _—_ an instant ally!" 

_*As if it was that simple—!*_

"It’s not going to agree to take the bastard down with the first random soul that walks up to it," Gin murmured, a small maelstrom of conflicting emotions starting in his soul, flickers of memories fighting at the edge of his attention. "Not sincerely." 

"We can offer it exactly what it wants in return," Saigo disagreed without hesitation, bringing haunting words to the forefront of Gin’s mind.

_‘If we work together—’_

Gin backed up a step, smiled wider to cover the emotions. "Deals like this need proof, collateral, in place of trust _—_ "

_*Or maybe ya should’ve just swallowed yer pride and taken its terms—*_

"Or assurance that we are as committed to taking the worm down as it is and that we can make that happen decades sooner than it could alone," Saigo said slowly as he took a step forward to match Gin’s. 

_‘You were too late—’_

Gin took another step back. "Yer talking about adding this Orb angle into yer last ridiculous plan to use Seireitei against the bastard?" 

With narrowed eyes, Saigo stepped after him. "You rejected that plan because of timing, distraction, triggering his bankai _—_ it won’t be easy, but this solves all those problems and more." 

"And causes a dozen more," Gin said, stopping his retreat as the raging emotions and memories rushed in; a more lethargic Saigo may not have pushed him over the edge, but he certainly hadn't been the one to pull him back over, even as he casually announced Gin’s damnation for what he’d done; turned backs apologizing— _leaving_ —still haunted his nightmares. It all resolved into conviction and anger— _once was enough!_

"Name one," Saigo challenged, stepping right into his space.

"Aside from _trusting_ the Orb?” Gin asked, tipping his head forward with a hard-edged smile, pushing into Saigo’s space in turn. “Not going out of your way to stop it is one thing. Now you’re alright destroying souls to feed it, are ya?" He mocked, a generous dose of accusation and bitterness slipping through as he attacked Saigo right where it mattered most.

Saigo rocked back as if struck, eyes wide.

Gin didn’t stop, pressing forward as Saigo retreated, pouring on the salt. "So ya can put pieces back in souls in the rare case they survive an attack—ya think the Orb’s just gonna hand them over for ya to do that? Ya think it has enough power right now to have any effect on Aizen? That it won't need to use up the souls ya feed it?" He let that sink in for maximum effect even as each accusation tore up his own soul as he damned himself right along with him. "You’d be no better than the shinigami," he whispered, nailing it home with vindication. 

Saigo surged forward with a blank face, snatching Gin’s shoulder and digging his nails in. _"Calm down."_

Soothing reiatsu flooded Gin’s soul, forcibly drowning _everything_ out _—_ the voices, the memories, the _emotions—_ and he sagged, chest heaving. The claws slipped from his shoulder as he dropped all the way to the ground, agitation leaving him. He held up his stinging palms, realizing he’d cut them up again. By habit, he reached up to his shoulder, but of course, there was nothing there, no blood or cuts. Wordlessly, he looked up to Saigo who’d knelt down with him. 

The man wouldn’t meet Gin’s eyes, pulling on his hands to check the damage for himself. "I wouldn’t have _—_ you could have just said that you don't want to be responsible for doing that to thousands of souls,” he said in a soft, subdued voice. “I'm not exactly in a rush to do that either."

"You just forgot about it," Gin said, voice a little shaky; he still wasn't used to the emotions completely overtaking him like that, leaving his normal restraint useless. 

Now, mind clear, he could tell himself that he knew that Saigo just had to be reminded—that he didn’t have any kind of double-standard outside of apathy and an absent mind. 

_*Where’s that apathy now?*_

He pulled his hands back before Saigo could actually try to heal them or offer to bandage them. 

Saigo let go without a fuss. Scrubbed a hand over his down-turned face. "It’s just an infant right now and just as affected by life and its environment as any other soul. It can be taught how to handle souls properly. Without destroying them, without sealing them off forever, same as hollows. All it needs is a proper teacher." 

"Students don't always accept their master's teachings," Gin murmured, chest aching. He didn’t mention the souls already lost. 

_*Why should it listen? All work for no reward. What could this lazy ass offer other than empty promises?*_

Rubbing the back of his hands over his face to collect himself, he remembered the cuts and pulled kaidou into them as a welcome distraction. 

Saigo flicked Gin’s hands just as they started to curl back into fists. "Stop that." 

Gin gave Saigo a very unfriendly smile, lacing it with killing intent. He could cut his hands to pieces if he wanted to. 

"I’ll tell Jyuuishiro," Saigo said, still not meeting his eyes, not even looking at the smile that was just for him. 

"That’s not fair," Gin said with a pout, letting the killing intent disappear and his hands fall back open. 

Saigo shrugged, sitting back on his heels with a sigh, running his hand through his hair. Yanking out the band when his hand caught in it. "And if I offer it a soul of its own? Not just the cannibalized remains of the worm’s." 

A thrill ran through Gin’s soul and he stared at Saigo in shock. "You can construct a soul from nothing?" 

_*He never said—!*_

Saigo actually looked up at him at that, a single brow raised. "Of course not. But I know who can. And I can strip the souls off it myself if it’s not willing to on its own; send them on." 

Gin swallowed in a suddenly dry throat. 

_*Someone who can? Had he-?*_

He couldn’t bring himself to ask, to _know_. And that was far from the only problem. “And how exactly are ya going to teach it to treat souls the same as hollows do, anyway? Ya have enough problems with willing and interested students.” 

"Let's just say that teaching hollow instincts is a special exception," Saigo said, lip twitching into a grin, some of that casual arrogance coming back. "Care for a demonstration?" Dropping the copy-orb to his side, he held out a hand, palm out, in a wordless offer.

"The same kind of ‘demonstration’ ya gave on orbs in Hueco Mundo?" Gin asked, wondering at yet another thing Saigo hadn’t told him in another life. 

Saigo perked up. "Ah, that’s right! That would be better, wouldn't it? No need to teach you not to destroy souls."

That hit unexpectedly hard and even as Gin nodded, he stalled, fussing about with getting a better spot to sit and asking how long it was going to take. He couldn't have Saigo noticing his reaction.

By the time they were settled and ready, the turmoil was buried deep out of the way. He leaned forward, focusing inward before Saigo’s palm even touched his skin. 

Even without the intent to ‘calm,’ Saigo’s presence had never felt like an intrusion, even in Gin’s inner soul. It was a balm to feel him so close, where ill-intent and even disregard was impossible to hide. A needed reminder that they were truly Family. 

And then something _twisted_. 

His eyes snapped open in the outer world, Kishi already in his hand in a wide overhead slashwith a sudden lurch of adrenaline. His attack stopped short a mere hair’s-breadth away from the copy-orb that was suddenly _swamping_ the area with its treacherous presence. 

“Let go.”

Saigo gave him the side-eye, not loosening his grip on Gin’s arm. “Are you going to stop being ridiculous? It’s still dormant. _You’re_ the one that’s changed. I’d hate to have to make a new one.”

Brow twitching, Gin let the fight fall away. They couldn’t _afford_ Saigo making another one. As Saigo let go, he reclaimed his arm and sheathed Kishi. But his gaze didn’t leave the orb. He’d only felt the Hougyoku like this a handful of times, few of them pleasant. But...

_*If we can sense such a small part so clearly, what would the full Hougyoku feel like?*_

“That’s not exactly the reaction I was expecting,” Saigo said, the unexpected amusement in his voice drawing Gin’s attention like little else would have at that point. 

Gin felt warmth and a genuine smile pulling at his lips and didn’t restrain it. Dread and horror and fury paled in the face of _possibility,_ and familiar banter brought a rush of far more pleasant memories. 

Saigo grinned back at him, eyes lit up with the curiosity and warm fondness for surprises Gin had been missing. 

Just as he hoped, Saigo didn't ask for an explanation for Gin’s reaction, hoarding up mysteries as precious puzzles to work on when life grew too dull. He simply pointed out, “It’s more than just being able to sense its presence. Can’t you hear it?”

_*Like a little voice could tell us what to do!*_

Scratching a cheek and focusing inward, Gin pushed back the hatred and hostility that had been drowning out the _other_. 

_Get it, take it_ home _,_ it whispered. _Power, protect—_

Gin yanked away, letting the hostility take back over and surfaced. He’d have time to dwell on the implications later. “It’s not very strong,” he told Saigo with a challenging smirk. 

“No?” Saigo asked, bemused, before shaking his head. “Well, that’s just the start anyway—it won’t be able to ignore it with handling souls properly as part of our conditions,” Saigo concluded with satisfaction and like that had always been the plan. “So?” 

Agitation largely soothed, Gin was only mildly exasperated at Saigo brazenly pushing forward, his mistakes brushed aside. For the moment. His anger was saved up for when he found out exactly how badly Saigo had messed up. With a sigh, he stretched his hands above his head, letting go of the last of the tension. “There’s still a bunch of problems, Saigo-chan~.”

“Like what?” Saigo asked, indignant. 

Gin shook his head. “I have a few things I’ve got to wrap up—with direct impact on this little plan of yours!” he raised his voice above Saigo’s protest, smiling genuinely when Saigo’s subsided with a huff.

Indeed, their plans might be changing drastically after his little errand. Not that he was foolish enough to get his hopes up, of course. But if he could sense it-! “It won’t take more than a few days. Once I finish—”

“You can actually get some rest and be more reasonable?” Saigo suggested, brow raised and eyes sparkling. 

“Are ya talking about yerself?” Gin chided, spirits lifted despite telling himself he was a realistic, cynical individual. “Ya can’t always be this crotchety and disagreeable.” Next steps clear in his mind, he was eager to be off. But he generously didn’t take to the air where Saigo couldn’t follow or take off faster than he could keep up. 

“Oi! Who are you calling crotchety, you little shit?!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Some big changes have happened! The original chapter 3, Earlier, is now gone. Changes to Give it Back and Saigo (orginal ch 2 + 4) have been made for an improved flow. Including a new scene between Gin and Ran in 'Saigo.' 'Careless' has had structural changes but not intensive line editing - it's been greatly shortened to prevent losing the mood/tone of the first half.  
> Meanwhile, 'Massacre' hasn't been touched, lol.  
> But here's a new chapter instead!  
> If you're curious about any changes or miss some of the old content, let me know!  
> Thanks again to my betareaders Ukranian Snowstorm and trashtulip! Any remaining mistakes are my own - feel free to point them out to me!


	7. Stakeout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: More Violence and Torture - Do I need to mention these at this point?

_Brats_ — Gin’s thoughts  
_*Weaklings*_ — Other Voice

* * *

— Early Morning, a Couple Days Later in May, 1886 — Somewhere in North, Rukongai — 

“S-senpai, please!” 

Gin ignored another ragged plea as he checked their progress against their target’s. They still had several districts to go, but their target had been moving surprisingly slow.

* _Should’ve caught up already.*_

“Tch.” Gin came to a dead halt in the air above a valley of abandoned farms and dropped his cargo. This was as good a place as any. 

Tetsuo immediately collapsed, one hand to his mouth, the other to his stomach. 

“Careful~! Ya would’ve had a long drop if I hadn’t made ya a platform, ya know?” Gin chided with his usual smile, crouching down to get a look at Tetsuo’s pale face. “Was I really going that fast?” he wondered, half genuine, half teasing. 

“This isn’t how I wanted to spend my day off from classes, Senpai~,” Tetsuo moaned, wiping the sweat from his face with a shaking hand. “Maybe I don’t qualify for this secret mission.” 

Gin propped his chin on his hand, putting on a thinking face. “Well, I suppose I could drop ya here and grab some random soul..."

Looking up with shiny, hope filled eyes, Tetsuo clasped his hands together in entreaty. “And I could make my own way back at a reasonable speed and—”

“Ah, it’d probably only take ya a day,” Gin agreed, enjoying the stunned look on the kid’s face—it’d only taken them a few hours to get here, after all—and gleefully made it worse: “And I’d have to kill the soul after. I’d make it quick of course, since they’re doing us a favor, but I’d probably have to feed the corpse to a hollow to get rid of the evi— ”

“I’m perfectly qualified after all! Hahaha!” Tetsuo exclaimed, jumping to his feet with gusto, even though his normally tan skin remained as white as a sheet. “I was just, ya know, comparing myself to, I don’t know, say someone more skilled, like—” 

The kid broke off into unintelligible mumbling after a single look at Gin’s growing smile.

“Who was that ya were going to say, Tecchan? Hmm?” Gin asked with a dose of menace, throwing an arm over the kid’s shoulder, encouraging him to start moving forward—there was no reason they couldn’t make a _little_ progress. “I can’t possibly think of who else I could’ve taken, since I checked _all_ the teams for qualifying volunteers and you were the only one!” 

The kid mumbled something that might have been 'Akio'—smart enough not to mention Ran even in a mumble—but Gin just continued over him, leaning forward to give the kid a good look at his smile. “Ya don’t think I’d let anything happen to ya, do ya?” 

“Haha, of course not, Ani—ah, Senpai,” Tetsuo said with a weak laugh, looking firmly over Gin’s shoulder. “Um, could ya maybe tell me the plan, uh, now. Please?” 

Gin laughed, patting the kid on the head. “Ya know, I think this worked out after all. Yer too thick-headed to freak out in highly dangerous situations.” 

While Tetsuo squawked in protest, Gin swung him around by the shoulder so they were face to face, staring the kid down until he sobered. 

“Nothing ya see or hear today gets repeated to anyone, no matter how shocking; ya act like ya never saw or heard it; ya don’t even think about it. Got it?” 

“Yes, sir!” Tetsuo promised with clear, determined eyes. 

“Yer job is simple: this guy has a special shikai ya haven’t been affected by, so yer here to be my eyes and ears—and my reikakou, got it?” 

That made the kid shrink and sweat, looking like he wanted to disappear even as he reluctantly raised a finger to get Gin’s attention. 'Uh, S-senpai? M-my range still hasn’t improved much..."

Gin ruffled the kid’s hair, less concerned about his choice by the minute. “I can get us approximately in the right direction— I want ya to focus completely on reikakou and tell me when ya sense other officers, or anyone ya know. If anyone so much as twitches in our direction, just say the word and we’re out. Ya can do that, right?”

Tetsuo looked up at him with wary eyes. “While yer using shunpo?”

“I’ll slow down when we get closer,” Gin promised, ruffling his hair as he turned his focus to weaving kidou wards. The Kyokkou was easy, but the one-way sound barrier took a bit of time and focus. Normally, they’d be a waste of effort so far away from their target, but he wasn’t taking chances once he entered Kyoka Suigetsu’s area of effect. 

With a last onceover for quality, he turned back to Tetsuo. “All set?”

Visibly summoning up his resolve, the kid nodded and closed his eyes to concentrate, and they were off again. 

Within moments they were swallowed by the miasma that Gin would rather never have to feel again. As always, it was disorienting; despite _knowing_ the borderline of effect was right behind him, Gin’s reikakou was no longer able to sense it. 

For all purposes, he was running blind, a little voice in the back of his mind warning him that _anything_ he saw or felt might not be real—that there could be an enemy right next to him. 

_*He can’t fool_ us— _not completely. All he can do is—*_

 _Move at a faster speed than our ability to filter through his lies and kill us just as we realise he’s there?_ Gin suggested cynically, even as he let the cold spread freely and numb the uncertainty.

Despite what he’d told Tetsuo, Gin was the one that sensed _it_ first. 

It was a smaller, _weaker,_ orb than the merged one Saigo had shown off; even a bit weaker than several of the other orbs Gin had retrieved. 

_*If ya can sense that, ya should be able to sense—*_

He pushed that aside and focused on the fact that it was moving _on its own_ at high speeds with a group of hollows in pursuit. 

Exactly what Gin was looking for, expected or not; he recognized the limits of the bastard’s illusions immediately. No wonder Aizen had been moving so slowly. “Multiple targets,” he murmured to Tetsuo, as he switched directions to head for the pending confrontation. 

The bastard could only craft one illusion for all under his hypnosis, so Gin had no doubt the pawns carrying the orb—the _bait—_ would become sensable as he got closer. 

Invisible bait was useless after all.

Tetsuo’s tug on his sleeve got half of Gin’s attention. 

”Two groups of four officers up ahead,” Tetsuo said quietly. “One’s running, the other waiting ahead of them. Second group has, maybe a senior and an upper officer?” 

_*The bastard and an overseer to keep the bait in line.*_

Enough bait to run again and again until the bastard found a hollow to give him the answers he wanted, Gin mused, absently nodding. 

Not long after, Gin could faintly feel the first group himself. Between his half-compromised senses and Tetsuo, Gin managed to wind a path parallel to the chase, keeping the chase between them and the ‘upper officer.’ 

Within moments the chase reached the second group. Glimpses between the trees revealed only seven officers to Gin—none of them Aizen.

The pawn-bait carrying the orb didn’t stop for the safety of the larger group or the senior officer, passing them by completely. Unfortunately for the fool, the hollows didn’t give the other pawn-bait, or even the senior officer, a second glance, solely focused on him and his precious cargo. 

Gin didn’t wait for Tetsuo’s guidance now, leaving behind the invisible bastard and keeping pace with the pawn-bait. It was only a matter of time before Aizen followed and Gin wanted to find a good seat first.

Of course, that meant that Tetsuo also got a front row seat to watch the pawn-bait get torn apart. For some reason, the kid’s usual vindictive thirst for noble blood was nowhere in sight as he hugged himself and squeezed his eyes shut to block it out. 

Gin shook the kid’s shoulder mercilessly as the lead hollow picked up the orb. The fool tried to overwhelm the ward on it, triggering a Byakurai that electrocuted him and several others nearby. Any minute, the bastard would be there—

Tetsuo’s gasp alone would’ve told him Aizen had arrived even if he wasn’t watching half a dozen hollows get sliced to ribbons by ‘nothing.’Gin glanced over in time to see Tetsuo mouth _Aizen-sochou_ and gave him another shake. “Focus.”

With a full body shudder, Tetsuo swallowed his shock and nodded, determination taking over. “He’s, um, taunting the hollow. Talking about the trapped ward on the—device? What’s—”

And taking the orb back. Gin could see the hollow’s still-clutching fingers being bent back one by one, before the orb in his hand disappeared from Gin’s sight and senses. “Nevermind that. Word for word, Tecchan.”

“Ah, r-right.” Tetsuo’s brow furrowed further as he concentrated. “He’s asking, ‘why are you so interested in getting hold of this little thing even to the point of stupidity?’” 

The bastard went on, mixing taunts and questions and casual dismemberment. Even as Tetsuo stuttered through relaying the conversation, Gin could all but hear it in Aizen's voice, the facade of warmth and patience over the lurking, clinical disdain Gin was all too familiar with. 

“S-stupid—" the hollow started, with stubborn defiance despite being on the edge of death. But he cut off with a mangled scream as he was relieved of another body part. The process repeated again and again, regeneration now a curse. Stubborn mocking soon faded more and more to desperation. 

Tetsuo grabbed onto Gin’s arm, clutching tight enough to turn his knuckles white. 

Gin didn’t comment or shake him off.

The hollow’s answers soon changed from typical hollow hunger for souls, to admitting that word had spread in Hueco Mundo: there were tasty orbs full of souls and _power_ being carried about by weaklings outside of the shinigami’s city. 

Gin’s heart stuttered as Aizen asked for specifics, asked _who exactly_ had told him this. But the hollow poured out a dozen names and none of them were Saigo’s. 

Indeed, even as the hollow gave in, even as the bastard pressed with more questions and pain, his explanation of _why_ , of _how_ he could sense it, didn’t change. The orbs were made of hollow food—why wouldn’t they be able to sense them?

In the end, Aizen caved first. Commenting that his patience had already been tried by others and there was hardly a shortage of hollows to question, he gave his victim one last chance. 

The hollow died in a spray of blood still reaching for the orb. 

Gin was left wondering if the hollow hadn’t known more answers, or if he was truly stubborn enough to take the answers to his grave. Surely the instinct to _live_ was stronger?

Tetsuo urgently shaking Gin’s arm drew him out of his musings. The kid’s eyes were wide in a pale face, his hand continuing to shake with tremors even after he drew Gin’s attention. “He’s... he’s saying he’s taking—that noble. He wasn’t dead—somehow—and he’s—”

“Taking his soul,” Gin finished for the kid, ignoring that the kid should have never had to learn about this. Ignoring the sinking weight in his own soul. 

The ironic death should have been only fitting, yet it disgusted him on a more visceral level than he’d felt in a very long time, almost as bad as _that night_. But there wasn’t time for stupid new instincts and he shoved it aside. More importantly—he gripped the kid’s shoulder with a hard hand—”What is he using?” 

“Wha—?” Tetsuo turned to him with blank eyes. 

Gin shook him again. “Focus, Tetsuo! Is he using the orb he took from the hollow?” 

“N-no, its—he’s using something else—! Aniki, yer hurting me!” Tetsuo cried, trying to pry Gin’s hand from his shoulder. 

“Sorry, brat,’ Gin murmured as all the energy suddenly seeped away from him. He let go and slumped back. Even barely a hundred meters away with the real Hougyoku _in use_ and he still couldn’t sense it.

_*It’s never been that easy.*_

“Um, he’s leaving, Aniki. We should—” 

With a sigh, Gin shook his head. “We’ve gotten all we need from this. Any farther is a pointless risk.” He gave Tetsuo a facsimile of his usual carefree smile. “I’ll chat with a few hollows myself instead and ya can forget all about this, hmm?” 

Tetsuo managed a shaky smile in return, shoulders slumping as tension left him. “I think ya owe me for this, Aniki.” 

For that, Gin managed a more genuine smile. “Not if ya keep calling me that, Tecchan~.” With a quiet huff of laughter for the brat’s wince, he ruffled the brat’s hair. “I’ll let it slide this time, alright? Choose yer favor wisely.”

“Um, maybe, uh, you coming to train us more often? The senpai are je—I mean, they're not as good as you. Or, or spill on the fight you and Saigo-sensei are having—oh, I know! Explain why ya abandoned me and the others last year out in the middle of the Rukongai instead of taking us back to Seireitei with you! We were three days late! _Three!_ Do ya know how much trouble I was in?!” 

Gin laughed freely. “Ya only get to choose one~.” 

* * *

— Several Weeks Later, July, 1886 — West Rukongai — 

“Oh, finally decided to show up, have ya?” Gin asked, throwing the next pebble over the surface of the river with unnecessary force. The last pebble he idly tossed up and down, considering how much damage he could do with it.

Saigo slumped down to sit a few feet away, rubbing at his eyes with a yawn. “What was that?Done with your little side projects?” Saigo asked without even doing Gin the courtesy of a casual greeting or turning to look at him. 

Gin considered pushing him into the river for several long moments.

_*Too petty.*_

Keeping it in the back of his mind as a possibility, he dropped his last pebble and sat as well, dipping his bare feet into the cool water. “Ah, I’m done.” 

For a few moments they sat in silence and Gin was left alone with dangerous thoughts. 

_*We could break Jyuuishiro’s favorite tea set, the family heirloom, and tell them this little shit did it.*_

Gin eyed the new bag Saigo was carrying. _Intercept his supply of those rare fruits from Shunsui and eat them in front of them._

_*Or tie him up and dump in front of Barrigan—that fool should be ruling Los Noches by now, shouldn’t he?*_

Long before Gin was ready, Saigo turned to look at Gin and sleepily asked, “Well? Are we doing this?” 

“We still have to work out the details of yer shit plan.” Gin kept his tone absent, knowing it would piss Saigo off. 

_*Chase him down and never let him sleep again!*_

Gin restrained a dark smirk as he caught the irritated scowl taking over Saigo’s face, the flash of brightness replacing the dark green. 

“Tch. What happened to your good mood?” Saigo bit out. Leaning over and splashing river water over his face, he scrubbed at his face vigorously. 

_*Oh oh! Tie him up and dump him at Jyuuishiro’s while he’s sick!*_

“Hmm? Why would ya think I was mad?” Gin asked brightly with a wide smile. 

“You’re leaking killing intent all over the place,” Saigo deadpanned, slumping back and drying his face on his sleeve.

Gin didn’t bother to restrain said killing intent or his bright tone and smile. “I don’t know what yer talking about~. I’ve just been waiting around for ya to show up after disappearing to gods know where after ya antagonized the bastard into spending all his spare time in the Rukongai.”

Saigo slowly turned to stare at him, darkly incredulous. “ _You_ were the one who wanted to run off and do—”he waved his hand vaguely “—whatever it is you wanted to do! _I_ wanted to get started right away!” 

_*Or throw him in front of the old fire-captain! That could be_ real _good!*_

Gin’s smile widened as he twisted to face Saigo directly. “I said I’d be back within a couple days.” 

Turning away with a grimace, Saigo roughly scratched his head, making a mess of his hair. “So I slept a few extra days—!”

Gin was on Saigo in a split second, dragging him up by the collar of his kimono. 

“ _Weeks,”_ Gin corrected, voice coming out flat and unnatural in the face of Saigo's wide eyes. More killing intent spilled out of Gin unbidden as he challenged the other man to brush this off. “Wanna guess how many times the bastard’s been in West in that time?”

Shrinking, Saigo pushed Gin off, pressing at his temple with a pained grimace. “Shit! I didn’t—you know I’m bad with time—”

“For some reason, that’s why I expected ya to be at _home_ where I could wake ya up!” Gin dropped back to the ground, frustrated at his own disappointment, and moodily snatched the abandoned bag of fruit. _Definitely not letting Shunsui give him any more of these—_ the other ideas would have to wait until _after_ Saigo bloody fixed the mess he’d created. “Now would be a good time to impress me with this plan of yers.”

A long, drawn out conversation failed to put much of a damper on Saigo's certainty of success—but it didn't impress Gin either. 

And yet...

“I’ll go along with this—for now.” He pulled Saigo close so he could murmur in his ear. “But ya have to _pay attention_. If Aizen identifies them..." His hand clenched around Saigo’s arm. “ _You_ are the one responsible.”

He released Saigo and turned away without looking at his expression, not wanting to know his response. 

The sooner they started the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm a little late.... But here it is! Chapter 7!  
> The holidays were... well, lets just say I didn't get much writing in. I'm hoping to get back to a chapter a month - lol at my past self that was thinking I could post faster than that - but I really need some prodding to keep at it - any response really gives me motivation. Thanks to my betas that provided that this month.  
> In any case, the intro is almost over and things are starting to pick up. Look forward to some more familiar characters showing up soon.  
> Ch 4+5 are the last already posted chapters that are in the editing queue, then it's just a forward march. in Theory.  
> Anyway, as always, thanks to my betareaders, Ukranian Snowstorm and trashtulip.  
> And please share your thoughts and comments - typos, critiques, suggestion - anything lol. A complaint about the sudden change of word count between the chapters anyone?  
> I'm thinking about removing some of the tags... I don't know, do they seem off-putting? Unnecessary?


End file.
